


Affectionate Moments Prompts

by quantumoddity



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-09 19:46:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8909641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumoddity/pseuds/quantumoddity
Summary: Okay! These ones are all from a list of fluffy affectionate moments prompts but of course I did manage to slide some angst in there. I am sorry these are a little higgledy piggledy but hopefully you'll find at least one you like!





	1. 27) Accidentally Sleeping In

Alexander Hamilton never slept in accidentally. Ever. He barely slept; he was the kind of person who considered actually turning up to work on time, rather than half an hour early, was a waste. Whenever Burr walked in to the office, usually five minutes early himself, Alex would already be there, three coffees deep and rattling away at the computer keyboard like he was trying to break it. His wife Eliza had gotten very used to waking up to an empty bed and the sounds of her husband singing tunelessly in the shower over in the bathroom.

So yeah, accidentally sleeping in wasn’t something he ever did. Until he and Eliza had a baby. And that was when the two of them discovered a whole new meaning to the word exhaustion.

Alex was a little confused at first when, instead of being woken by the tinny shriek of his usual half five am alarm, he was woken by a set of tiny feet hammering against the small of his back. He rolled over, groaning, rubbing at his eyes with the hell of one hand while casting around to still his three month old’s frantically kicking legs.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he groaned, his voice cracking with hours of disuse, “That’s enough buddy. I’m up.”

He got a mildly irritated gurgle in response and the little baby tried to grab his father’s fingers and put them in his mouth. Alex laughed tiredly and ruffled the tiny wisps of black hair on top of Philip’s head.

At first his exhausted brain just assumed that it was the middle of the night. Apparently his little son was nocturnal, he seemed to be most awake in the middle of the night, lying in between his parents and crowing loudly and demanding food or attention, apparently not caring that it was one in the morning. He started to reach over, about to nudge Eliza awake, gently and guiltily shake her shoulder.

But he stopped, looking around the bedroom curiously. His mind ground into gear and that was when he realised that the room was looking a lot brighter than it usually did every time his son woke him up. He blinked, confused, and that was when he caught sight of the ancient clock radio.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

 

Eliza jumped right out of her skin at the crash the bathroom door made as Alexander threw it open and barrelled through it. She sat up blearily, thinking that the apartment must be on fire, that Philip must be about to fall out of an open window, that the world must be ending.

“Wha-Alex? What’s…Whassat?” she stammered, not quite awake enough to get her brain and her mouth connected. 

She reached over and picked up her son who was bubbling fairly contentedly, despite the fact that he was stuck on his back like a turtle. She had to smile as she felt him curl up against her skin and cling to her, though she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the bathroom door. There were an awful of of crashes, gravelling swearing and other worrying noises echoing from the open door.

“What on earth is you dad doing, Pip?” Eliza sighed aloud, stroking his back comfortingly.

The little boy had no answer; he just gnawed toothlessly on his mom’s shoulder. Eliza chuckled.

Alex reappeared, moving so fast he was pretty much just a blur with legs. His eyes were wild and wide; he had a toothbrush sticking rakishly out of his mouth, a hairbrush hopelessly tangled in his bedhead, half dressed as he darted around the room gathering his work clothes.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down Alex!” Eliza exclaimed, moving Philip onto her lap where he sat watching his dad with doleful, curious eyes, “You’ll break your neck!”

Alex turned to his wife like he’d just noticed she was there. Toothpaste running down his chin, he gestured frantically at the clock with a muffled cry of exasperation.

“Oh,” realisation dawned in Eliza’s mind when she recognised that Alex was supposed to be at work ten minutes ago.

The world really was ending.

“Okay,” she turned back to Alex, her eyes worried, “Breathe, honey, its going to be okay. Stay calm.”

But she could see Alex was beyond help. He turned and spat his mouthful of toothpaste into a nearby mug and attempted to scramble into a jumper, somewhat hampered by the detritus filled hurricane his hair had turned into.

And that was when things turned from bad to worse.

The fact that his eyes were covered, the fact that the floor was covered in toys, the fact that he was too frantic to pay attention to anything around him, it was bound to happen. Alex went down hard with a high-pitched yelp, his feet and his head essentially swapping positions in space.

There was a moment of silence as Eliza’s hand flew to her mouth and as Alex lay there in a heap, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But then it was broken by an unfamiliar sound, a desperately happy sound that made them both stop and still and listen.

Philip was laughing. His little face was illuminated by an enormous grin and he laughing hard, unashamedly, his eyes bright.

He’d never laughed before.

Eliza looked at Alex, her expression bewildered and so happy, completely and utterly amazed. Alex had his hand over his mouth, obviously about to cry for a reason that had nothing to with his bruised arm. He scrambled onto the bed, kneeling in front of his wife and his son, reaching out and ruffling those wisps of dark hair again.

“Find it funny, do you?” he joked, his voice cracking with emotion, “You little thing.”

Philip just kept laughing, leaning into his dad’s touch. Eliza held him tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and smiling at Alex.

She tilted her head towards the clock, questioningly when his eyes met her’s. Alex shrugged, grinning crookedly, “I can take a half day. It’s fine. This is…this is more important.”


	2. Teaching the other something new

“Okay, um, how about…” Alex cast around his dorm room, looking for a word. His eyes fixed on a book on his nightstand, the one Eliza had let him borrow only last night and he was already half finished with.

“Libro,” he declared, pointing at it.

“Libro,” Eliza repeated earnestly, trying to match his pronunciation, the slight lilt to his words.

He smiled at her, nodding, “Yeah, good. Okay, what about…” his eyes flickered upwards, “Bombilla. Light bulb.”

“Bom…bombilla,” Eliza stumbled a little and she frowned in concentration, shuffling towards him on the bed, leaning in close so she could hear him better. Very close, in fact. Alex could feel his focus slipping.

“Keep going,” Eliza urged him, her eyes bright and interested.

He tried to clear his head, pointing towards her oversize jumper, colored that powdery blue that looked so good on her, “Azul.”

“Azul,” she repeated, lifting up her sleeve with a grin, somehow managing to get the accent perfect on her first try, hitting the cadence of the word just right, making it sound beautiful. Alex smiled, starting to enjoy this game.

After a pause, he murmured, “Bésame.”

“Bésame,” Eliza repeated, tilting her head confusedly, “What does that mean?”

Alex closed the gap between them eagerly, jumping forward onto his hands and knees so he could kiss her. She made a small, adorable noise of surprise as his skin made contact with her’s but she softened within a heartbeat. Her mouth opened under his, tasting of sweet tea and toothpaste and warmth. His Eliza.

“Kiss me,” he answered her question in a low, mischievous voice, his lips pulling away only a few centimetres from her’s, “And you did ask, so…

Eliza was blushing furiously, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger, flustered but happy, “Stop that. How am I going to learn Spanish if you keep distracting me?”

Alex shrugged, in a failed attempt to look apologetic, unable to hide his grin, “Remind me, why exactly do you want to learn Spanish?”

His girlfriend blinked her large, dark eyes at him, “I don’t know, I just thought it would be fun? It would be something we could share.”

Alex bit his bottom lip. It was fun; he had to admit. He’d never really thought he’d enjoy hearing Spanish words again until he heard them in Eliza’s voice. It was like a piece of his home come back to him, all the parts he enjoyed and still missed sometimes; the feeling of sand under his feet, the boleros coming from the tinny little radio that sat in the corner of his mom’s store, sea salt stinging his eyes and skin. The poisonous, painful memories were missing somehow.

And he liked teaching Eliza something; she was attentive and focused like there was nothing else in the world but his voice, like he was all she cared about. The thought raised a pleasant chill on his skin.

“And I thought…” Eliza began, looking like she was trying to choose her words carefully, “I thought maybe you’d like to…I don’t know, keep hold of something from your childhood? Some of the good stuff.”

Alex started a little. It was scary how perceptive she could be.

He’d agonised over it for a long, long time before he’d finally cracked one night and told her everything about where he came from. They’d been lying in bed after making love, so tangled up in each other they didn’t feel like they were two people anymore, breathing heavily and sweating and shaking and so unbelievably happy but a little scared too. His walls had been down, it was like she’d reached in and grabbed the foundations of who he was and rattled them, and it had just…fallen out of his mouth. It had lurched out of him and he’d scrabbled desperately to catch hold of it but it had been too late. Before he’d known where he was, he was crying and trembling as he coughed up the whole sorry story of his father, his mother, his brother, everything.

Alex hadn’t been able to look at her once he was done. He’d just wanted to curl up and hide, sink down into the darkness creeping into the corners of his mind. But then a hand had reached out and took hold of his shoulder, pulling him up and out, and then he’d been sobbing into Eliza’s chest and her arms were around him and her low, comforting voice was in his ear.

And everything was okay.

It had been a week since then and she’d been doing nothing but hugging him at random moments, kissing his jaw when he hadn’t been expecting it, making him smile, sending him cute, dorky texts. She hadn’t said anything, until now when she’d shyly approached him and asked if they could spend their morning off with a language lesson. But Alex knew what she was trying to do and he was more grateful than he could say.

And he was so glad he’d told her.

“Thanks, Eliza,” he murmured, quietly, his eyes warm.

She reached over and threaded her fingers through his, her thumb pressing into the palm of his hand comfortingly.

“De nada,” she replied with a bright smile, repeating back the words he’d said to her after she’d asked him to teach her Spanish.

Alex suddenly wanted to kiss her again.

“Te quiero,” he sighed as he leaned in towards her, his breath warm on her skin, “Te quiero más de lo que puedo expresar con palabras.”

Eliza didn’t need to ask what that meant.


	3. A Tired Kiss

The morning sun leaked through the curtains and fell across Eliza’s eyes, making her frown and shift and groan as consciousness caught hold of her. She was going to simply roll over and hide under the duvet, steal a few more minutes of sleep, it was Saturday after all but that was when she heard the rattling and clacking that she needed a moment to realize was the sound of typing.

Alex was sat up in bed, his laptop balanced carefully on his knees, his eyes bleary and bloodshot, his hair sticking up like a birds nest. He’d clearly been awake for hours, if not all night. Eliza narrowed her eyes.

“What are you doing, honey?” she sighed, her voice thick and croaky.

Alex jumped a mile; he’d been in a world of his own. He tried to not look guilty and failed miserably.

“Oh morning sweetheart. I, um, didn’t realize you were awake. I was just, ah…”

“Working when you should be sleeping?” Eliza finished for him plainly, easing herself up onto her elbows and raising one eyebrow, “Working so hard you’re going to make yourself sick? Like you promised you weren’t going to do any more?”

“Maybe,” Alex squirmed, turning red.

Eliza opened her mouth to say something else, still frustrated with her husband, but that was when she froze, her eyes bulging and skin turning pale. A familiar chill ran across her skin and a hollow, sickening feeling that she remembered but had been dreading rose up in her stomach.

“Eliza?” Alex prompted, nervous, trying to decide if he was still in trouble or not, “Baby?”

A heartbeat later Eliza span, jumping to her feet and staggering towards their little bathroom.

“Oh no,” Alex muttered as the raw, painful sounds of retching filled the room, “Here we go again.”

Eliza was obviously preoccupied with the fact that everything she’d eaten in the past few days was trying to escape her body but she felt Alex gently pull her hair to safety and his hand gently circle her back as she bent over the toilet.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, giving her something to cling to, “Hang in there.”

Ten minutes later and Eliza was finally done, coughing up the last of the bile in her throat, groaning wretchedly as she rested her forehead against the bowl. The two of them were more than familiar with this whole dance; they’d been kind of waiting for it to all kick in ever since that day last week when Eliza had realized with a start that she was late. They’d both sobbed and laughed and held each other but this made it feel real. An uncomfortable, kind of gross but weirdly beautiful reality.

Eliza didn’t even have to look up, she just held out her hand, knowing Alex was going to press a glass of water into it.

“Remind me why we’re doing this pregnancy thing again?” she moaned after she’d spat her mouthful of water into the toilet, her voice raw and muffled, keeping her eyes closed, “For the sixth time?”

She heard Alex’s bemused laugh, “Because the condom broke, sweetheart.”

Eliza sighed heavily.

“Sorry, let me try again,” Alex corrected himself, his hand tightening comfortingly on her shoulder, “Because you’re the best mother and the most wonderful woman I know?”

Eliza replied dryly, “There it is.”

She had to laugh, in her head. Because of course Alex always did this, used his jokes and his charm to make it impossible for her to be angry with him for any length of time. The most they’d ever managed to sustain a fight for was a week. He was just so-

“Alex are you seriously fucking with me right now?”

Eliza had finally raised her head and opened her eyes, to be faced with her husband, sitting cross legged on the floor, one supportive hand on his wife’s shoulder, reassuring her through morning sickness like he was supposed to be doing but the other at the keyboard of his laptop.

“Um…” Alex tried, quailing under Eliza’s blazingly furious eyes, “I-I really need to finish this and I had this sentence I wanted to get down before I forget so I-“

“Alexander!”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” he insisted but his left hand didn’t budge from the keys. Eliza would have bet any amount have money that he’d have kept typing if it was possible without looking.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Eliza pushed herself onto her feet. Her intention had been to storm back into the bedroom but her head began to swim and it felt like the room was tipping. Alex leapt to catch her before she could crumple to the tiles.

“Eliza, are you okay?” he asked, frantic.

“I’m fine,” she growled back, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “Thank you for taking the time away from your incredibly important work to stop me from cracking my head open.”

“Eliza…” Alex moaned in despair, reaching for her, following her as she squirmed free of his arms and stamped away.

“No, Alex,” Eliza span to face him, her expression stopping him dead in his tracks, “You worked on that thing for hours yesterday, you stayed up all night and ran yourself into the ground, you won’t even tear your eyes away from it when I’m throwing my guts up because I’m pregnant with your child? What is it that’s so fucking important?”

Alex’s jaw worked for a few minutes in the awful, heavy silence that followed Eliza’s outburst; he looked so lost. Then he finally managed to choke out, “It’s a speech for Washington. He’s…he’s not running for President again. He’s done. He’s…leaving.”

Eliza stopped, her eyes widening, completely and utterly shocked.

“Oh,” was all she could think to say, after a long pause, “Oh, Alex.”

‘So yeah…” her husband’s eyes slide to the floor, his shoulders tight, “I just wanted to, y’know…get it right. But I can’t, I keep fucking it up and it sounds awful and I…I…”

Eliza’s anger died in her chest. Everything made sense now. She looked at him standing there, shaking with exhaustion and the emotion he was holding back, looking so scared and so lost and so guilty. Why hadn’t he just said something? But of course he wouldn’t have been her Alex if he had, if he hadn’t tried to carry the weight of everything himself, let it crush him before he even thought of sharing it with the woman who’d promised him and told him time and time again that she would shoulder it with him.

Eliza bit her bottom lip to stop it trembling. She never could stay mad at Alex for long.

She closed the gap between them swiftly, folding her arms around him and kissing him. She felt it as he softened and opened under her touch, as he finally relaxed against her. They were both so exhausted but that kiss was so sweet and so gentle, neither of them had realized how much they’d needed it. Once the kiss was finished, she let him rest his head in her shoulder and combed her fingers through his bedhead.

“How about you read me what you have so far?” Eliza suggested quietly, “I can help you work it out.”

“I know,” Alex sighed into her hair, breathing in the musk of her skin, letting it slow his heartbeat back to a normal rate, “I know, Eliza.”

“It’s going to be okay, my love,” she sighed.

His hands moved up to her lower belly, resting gently and protectively against her skin, getting as much comfort as he was giving.

“I know,” Alex replied, “I know.”


	4. 20) A Massage 19) Cuddling

Alex had been so deeply absorbed in his work, he actually yelped in surprise as the balled up piece of paper connected with the back of his head. He span, wide eyed, to see his wife leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, one eyebrow raised sardonically.

“Hey!” Alex narrowed his eyes playfully, his surprise evaporating quickly to relief and love, “There’s better ways to get my attention, you know.”

“Maybe but this is the quickest,” Eliza smiled, teasing, moving towards him carefully, very aware of the large curve in her abdomen unbalancing her.

Alex reached out and took hold of her hand as she approached, threading their fingers together as she looped her arms around him. He sighed as she settled against him, letting the familiar rough feeling of her hands on his and the musky, soapy smell of her skin drive the exhaustion from his mind. Though he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the sight of her, glowing and full with his child. It knocked the breath out of him and put a smile on his every goddamn time he saw her.

“How are you feeling?” Alex murmured against the skin of her neck, into the hollows of her throat.

“Huge,” she answered, only a little bitterly, “Nauseated. Tired. The usual.”

Alex gave a groan of sympathy, sliding his free hand up to run through her hair. Though as he did, he moved in neck in just the wrong way and a spike of pain ran through his spine. He hissed in pain, flinching.

Eliza pulled away, panicked, “Oh God, sorry!”

“No, no, it’s not you,” Alex insisted, rubbing at the base of his neck, “It’s my own stupid fault, I’ve been hunched over this laptop in the dark like the goddamn phantom of the opera for…wait, what time is it?”

Eliza raised her eyebrows amusedly, and tilted her head towards the window, which revealed a pitch-black night sky.

“Oops,” Alex muttered. He turned to Eliza guiltily, “Sorry…”

Both of them were very aware of the promise he’d made her just last night that he was done with the late nights and the hours of nonstop work, sequestered away in his office even when he’d already done a full day.

But Eliza just sighed, half exasperatedly, half fondly. She ran her hands through his unwashed, sticking up cloud of hair, crazily framing his ashen face, his shadowed, hazy eyes. She understood his actions, even if she didn’t like them. Everything he did, he did for their family.

“Its okay,” she said quietly, “You are definitely coming to bed now, though.” 

Alex closed his eyes and nodded, practically purring as she played with his hair, sliding her fingers through its dark tangles, teasing out the knots and kneading at the roots. Suddenly, the ache in his shoulders and his legs and his hands seemed so far away. Eliza grinned, feeling as he melted under her fingers, sliding her hands down his neck, pressing her thumbs in at his collarbone. He moaned low in his throat as she magically dissolved the pain weighing heavy there, bringing his focus down to her instead, her touch and her quiet laughter. She’d been with Alexander for a long time, she’d learned long ago how to give good massages.

“Jesus Christ, Eliza,” he gasped in relief, “Right there, over a bit…yes.”

Once he could feel nothing but warmth and comfort, he leaned back, resting his head carefully against the swell of her stomach.

“I feel like we’ve got this ass-backwards,” he sighed, “Shouldn’t I really be the one taking care of you? Giving you massages and stuff?”

Eliza pursed her lips, remembering the many times she’d had to bite her lip and endure one of Alex’s massages, which were a lot more…heavy handed than she’d really like. Last time she’d ended up with more aches that she’d started with. But of course she didn’t have the heart to actually tell him that.

“You can make it up to me,” she said quickly, leaning down and pressing a kiss against his jaw, the shadow of his beard rough under her mouth, “Let’s go to bed. Now.”

Alex didn’t even bother with pajamas any more; he just stripped off and crawled under the covers, collapsing face first into the pillows with a relieved huff. Eliza shook her head as she changed although, admittedly, she slept in nothing but an old t-shirt of his. She insisted that it was the only thing that was comfortable when she was pregnant.

As she pulled her dress over her head and wriggled out of her bra and underwear, she could feel Alex’s eyes on her. She turned and, sure enough, he was poking his head from under the bottom of the duvet, resting his chin on his arms and running his eyes over her naked skin appreciatively, lost in the curves and valleys of her body, not even embarrassed that he was staring.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed, “You’re just…really beautiful.”

Eliza blushed and beamed, ducking her head, “Shut up.”

He laughed low in his throat, enjoying her reaction, stretching out his hand to pull her into bed with him. Once she’d pulled his old shirt over her head, tugging it down though it barely reached the top of her legs, she went willingly.

Given that Eliza was about it give birth in less than a month, their main activity in bed had changed pretty dramatically recently, from ‘sleeping together’ to actually, literally sleeping together. All Eliza wanted to do was curl up against Alex, have his arms around her and his heartbeat against her ear while she slept. Alex was more than happy to oblige, cuddling with his wife until her soft snores sent him to sleep; he found he had a lot less nightmares when the two of them were tangled up together.

“Which time do you think it was?” Alex asked quietly into the dark and Eliza’s hair as she snuggled into him after she’d turned off the light.

“Hmm?” Eliza murmured drowsily against his chest.

“When the made them, our baby?” he continued, his voice growing croaky with exhaustion.

Eliza gave a breathy laugh, opening her eyes so they glittered in the darkness, “You mean the time you knocked me up?”

Alex pulled a face, “I think the way I said it was a little more romantic. But yeah. Basically.”

Eliza considered that for a moment, enjoying thinking about it, enjoying turning all those precious moments over in her mind again.

“I think…do you remember that time you took me stargazing out by the river?”

Alex laughed and pulled his wife tighter against him. He did remember. He remembered very well.

He’d been so proud of himself, thinking of such a romantic date idea. He knew a lot about the stars all ready, from his mother, but he’d spent ages researching online so he could impress her, learning every scrap of information he could about the constellations. But as soon as they’d actually got out there, lying in the back of his battered pick up truck, she’d looked so beautiful in the moonlight, stretched out in his jersey, her eyes glittering, that everything he’d learned just fled his mind. All he could think of was her, his Eliza. They’d made love right there under the stars and he’d been so overwhelmed, so full of love for her that he’d cried. And Eliza had only smiled gently, reaching up and brushing the tears away from his face, holding his jaw tenderly, a look in her eyes like she couldn’t believe she’d found him, of all the people in the world, he was her’s.

“Yeah,” Alex murmured softly, his hands moving down to stroke her tight skin, blinking hard against the tears threatening him, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”


	5. 30) Sharing a Bath/Swim

Alex had actually been stupid enough to say ‘how hard could it be?’ as they’d been throwing down old sheets and cracking the lids of the tins of paint. Eliza had given him one of her looks, folding her arms. They’d been parents for a long time now, surely he knew better than to say something like that? When had anything ever actually been easy?

Fun, sure. But never easy.

Alex and Eliza never found out the baby’s gender in advance. Alex, who despised not knowing things, would frown and pout but Eliza would remind him pointedly that it was her decision and that it was better to be surprised. Her husband respectfully disagreed although, months later, when he actually had their baby in his arms, he’d always admit that she was right, that he was glad they’d waited.

Given this, when it came to painting the room for the new baby, they’d gone for a kind of forest green, something neutral. Eliza stirred her paintbrush through it, thoughtfully, enjoying the way it turned and folded over itself. It reminded her of the tall pines around the Schuyler house, of lying beneath them on lazy Saturday mornings, making her smile. Little Angie knelt beside her mom, equally entranced, although apparently instant on putting her hand right in the tin.

“Come on, honey, don’t,” Eliza laughed, trying her best to sound stern as she caught her youngest’s arm centimeters away from the surface of the paint.

The little girl scowled, determined, as she usually was, to make a mess. But Alex snuck up behind his daughter and lifted her up onto his shoulders, making her shriek and laugh, distracting her. Eliza grinned as she watched them wrestle, Alex throwing the little girl in the air and catching her, giving her eskimo kisses, calling her ‘Angel’ in that way he always did. Her hand fluttered unconsciously to her lower stomach. She loved her family.

“Come on guys, let’s do this,” she said after a while, gingerly getting to her feet, feeling a little unbalanced, “We’ve got a million other jobs to get done today.”

She wasn’t wrong. They’d moved into this house a week ago and there were still half unpacked cardboard boxes littering the corridors. Eliza wasn’t going to waste this rare Friday where Alex wasn’t at work; it was nice not to be in a small apartment anymore, to have room to actually move, but she missed their old place. She wanted this house to feel like home, the way that one had.

And maybe when she didn’t have to scale a mountain of boxes and piles of books to get to the kitchen and they actually had a room for the baby that was arriving in four months, it would. 

It started off reasonably well. They got through a whole quarter of a wall before something went wrong. It was Alex, stumbling back in his attempt to balance a paintbrush on the end of his nose, nearly kicking one of the tins over in the process. The next time it was Angie, they both took their eyes off her for more than ten seconds, foolishly, and she took the opportunity to go sleeves-deep into the paint. Of course, Eliza and Alex then ended up with a flurry of green handprints on their jeans as their little girl carved her usual path of destruction around the room. And then somehow Alex ended up with bright green palms from leaning on the wall and not thinking. His bright eyes turned to Eliza, narrowing his eyes playfully, holding his hands out threateningly.

“Oh no,” Eliza backed away, brandishing her paintbrush like a sword, “You wouldn’t dare, Alexander Hamilton.”

He laughed, “Come on, you know by now there’s nothing I wouldn’t dare do.”

Eliza turned tail and ran. Alex caught her easily.

Six o’ clock in the evening and the walls were finally painted green. But so were Alex, Eliza and little Angelica.

“’How hard can it be?’ I said. I actually said that,” Alex moaned, plucking at his paint-splattered sweater. He turned to Eliza who was kneeling on the floor, and had been for the past few hours, painting with such focus that she was sticking her tongue out without noticing it. Alex smiled fondly at that. He really loved her.

“Why was I stupid enough to say that, my love?” he asked.

“I don’t know, dearest,” Eliza replied without looking up, still intently moving her brush so deliberately, pulling such beautiful pictures out of nowhere.

Finally, she sat back on her heels with a satisfied smile. A tree now covered most of one wall, beautifully painted, with an owl resting in one branch and a fox peering around the trunk.

“Done,” Eliza declared.

Alex came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, his chin on her shoulder.

“It’s amazing,” he told her, meaning it and wanting to say so much more but he knew Eliza would get awkward. His hands closed protectively around her stomach and the gentle slope starting to form there, “They’ll love it.”

“I hope so,” Eliza murmured, enjoying the comforting, safe weight of his touch. After a moment, she realized how late it was, “Where are Angie and Pip?”

Alex grimaced, “Not wholly sure, they ran off somewhere as soon as Pip got back from school. Wherever they are, it’s probably at least 60% covered in green paint by now.”

Eliza laughed, though she knew she wouldn’t be laughing when it came to cleaning that up.

“We’re not much better,” she observed, examining her hands curiously.

“No, we probably should get cleaned up,” Alex agreed. Suddenly, Eliza felt him grin, felt the shift in his muscles as he held her, “Once we’ve got the kids in bed, actually…what would you say to…a bath?”

Eliza paused, taking in what he was really asking, a smile of her own dawned on her face, “I think that’s a good idea.”

This new house had a pretty big bath, a new luxury that Alex and Eliza, who were used to sex in cramped college showers, were making full use of.

He was practically purring as she washed his hair, kneading soap bubbles into his damp, dark tangles, teasing them free with long careful fingers. His hair was definitely his weak point. The water turned an unusual color as the paint ran off them but it was so warm and they were so close to each other, their skin soft and slick as they pressed against each other…

It wasn’t long before Alex snapped, spinning around and kissing her like his life depended on it. Eliza melted against him happily, her hands slipping down into the dark water, stroking his thighs, exploring. Alex dropped, going to work against her neck, lapping at her skin, tasting salt and his Eliza. She moaned softly, gladly, squeezing him somewhere that made him sink his teeth into her reflexively. There was going to be a mark on her in the morning, he thought vaguely, enjoying the possessive thrill of that. The impression of his teeth on her collarbone, the long red marks her nails were leaving on his skin. Signs that she was his and he was her’s.

Before they surrendered to each other completely, Alex pulled a way just a little, smiling at the desperation in her eyes at the loss of his heat against her.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she sighed, lifting one of her hands to rest against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. He reached out to her in turn, to feel her’s. One of her’s; she had two, technically.

And Eliza felt like she was home. As long as she was with Alex and their family, she was home.


	6. 31) Catching the other before they fall

“Alex, I think this may have been one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had,” Eliza mused aloud, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Come on, Eliza, where’s your sense of romanticism?” Alex demanded, looking a little hurt that his gesture didn’t seem to be getting the reception he felt it deserved. After all, he’d picked her up from classes and driven all the way here, covering her eyes and guiding her along until they’d stopped outside the destination of what he’d conservatively called ‘a date so damn cute it will blow your mind’.

“It’s just I don’t really consider my boyfriend breaking his neck to be particularly romantic,” Eliza admitted, “Have you ever actually ice skated in your life?”

Alex pulled a face, “Well no, there wasn’t much call for it back in Puerto Rico. But you were just telling me the other day how you used to go skating with Angelica and Peggy on that pond by your parent’s place and you sounded so happy. And with finals and everything, it’s been ages since we went on a date and just, y’know, spent some time together?”

His voice trailed off a little, his eyes hopeful. Eliza chewed on her bottom lip. Okay, maybe she was being a jerk. Maybe this would be fun. Maybe it wouldn’t end with Alex getting his fingers sliced clean off.

“It is a sweet idea, Alex. Thank you,” her smile turned fond and she reached out to tuck in a stray lock of hair that had escaped his bobble hat. It was the one she’d knitted him back in October last year, she noted with a touch of pride. He was wearing the matching mittens and scarf and everything.

“Cool! Come on then,” he grinned, pleased, pulling her towards the entrance of the ice skating rink.

Eliza quickly realized that she’d been right to be concerned. Alex approached ice-skating with his usual confidence and enthusiasm but, from the minute the laced up his boots, tried to stand and promptly fell over like a baby giraffe learning to walk, it was clear he might be overestimating himself. 

“Last chance to back out and save your vertebrate,” Eliza warned as she darted forward and caught him before he could hit the ground, though she was finding it hard not to giggle at his ungainliness.

“Nope,” he declared brightly, kissing her nose as she righted him, nearly making her drop him again in surprise, “I am determined to be a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend or die in the attempt.”

Eliza laughed, blushing brightly “Okay, okay. Lets do this then.”

Five minutes in and Alex’s feet had already nearly slid out from under him twenty times.

“I kind of thought this would be just like walking but, y’know, colder?” he squeaked in alarm as his legs attempted to go in two entirely different directions and he was forced to hang on to Eliza’s waist again, “Why the fuck is everyone going so fast?”

“No, it’s a little bit more involved than that,” she sniggered, stumbling under his weight but just managing to keep them both upright, “Come on, hang into the side a minute and I’ll show you.”

Eliza was, admittedly, very good at skating. Like she’d been telling Alexander one night as she’d woken him excitedly at two in the morning to watch the snow fall outside her window, she and her sisters would make use of the frozen pond behind the Schuyler house every winter. It just seemed to click with Eliza; the few turns and flicks of the ankles and arms necessary to go from gingerly picking her was across the ice to practically soaring, her dark hair coming loose of her scarf and streaming out behind her as she laughed delightedly into the wind. It was always her favorite thing about winter, her mother would watch her and joke that she was better at flying than she was at walking, calling her ‘my little bird’.

Skating with Alex was turning out to be slightly less graceful but it was decidedly funnier. He watched her carefully as she explained the movements necessary to get going and to stay balanced but he just seemed incapable of replicating them.

“Technically,” he reminded her pointedly when he noticed she was smirking at him as he dragged himself along the wall of the rink, “I haven’t actually fallen over. I just keep nearly falling over.”

Eliza nodded, “True.”

Alex hauled himself up into something approximating a standing position, “How about I just watch you skate for a bit?”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright by yourself?”

“Yeah,” he insisted, a little indignantly though he had zero right to be, “Go on then, astound me.”

Eliza smirked and launched herself with a seemingly effortless push of her heels. It wasn’t long before she picked up speed and was, for all intents and purposes, flying across the ice. She span and twirled her way through wide circles, neatly dodging between groups of people, even turning a few times, unable to stop laughter bubbling up in her chest as she did so.

When she returned to Alex, after a few good turns of the rink, skidding to a halt in front of him, she had to grin at his face. His jaw had fallen open, his eyes were wide with disbelief and he was blushing a little.

“So how was that?” Eliza teased, bowing neatly.

In answer, Alex grabbed her shoulders and kissed her, hard and out of the blue. Eliza was so surprised, so distracted, that was when her legs went out from under her and they both went crashing onto the ice.

“How the tables have turned!” Alex yelped, sitting up and looking at her over the tangle of their limbs.

“You distracted me!” she exclaimed, wincing as she moved her legs out from under his.

There was a pause and then they both began to laugh so hard their faced hurt. It was a while before they managed to get back to their feet.

“Congratulations,” Eliza smiled, pulling him back in for another kiss once they were off the ice; “You are officially a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend.”

“Awesome,” Alex grinned in triumph though he winced quickly, “Because I think I’m going to need you to carry me everywhere from now on. My legs have kind of stopped working.”

Eliza smiled, “No problem. It was worth it.”


	7. 15) A 'Hope We Don't Get Caught' Kiss

“I’m confused, am I allowed to look at you right now or not?” Alex asked, in mock curiosity, covering his eyes theatrically as he turned from trying to do his tie in the mirror.

“It’s an engagement party Alex, it’s not our wedding. Also, you’re driving us there? So I’m going to say you’re good,” Eliza smiled, shaking her head in disbelief, “For safety reasons.”

“Okay then,” Alex peeked through his fingers, and then stopped completely, his jaw falling open.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes moving up and down her the way someone would look at a priceless piece of art, with complete and breathless wonder, “You look…unbelievable.”

Eliza felt herself start to blush and she hugged herself, coy but pleased, “You think so?”

Eliza always felt a little awkward when she got dressed up. But her mother had stressed that this was the kind of party where her usual choice of jeans and probably paint-splattered blouse wouldn’t cut it. So yesterday Angelica had commandeered her for a shopping trip and now she found herself dressed in some very short, very lacy, cream-colored dress and heels of a height that normally she’d avoid like the plague. But the expression on Alex’s face was helping her stand a little straighter and feel a little less nervous.

“I mean, Jesus, Eliza,” Alex half laughed, stepping closer to her almost reverently, his hands moving to her hips, his teeth closing on his lower lip, his eyes starting to look hungry, “How on earth am I supposed to concentrate all night when you’re stood next to me looking like that? It’s unfair.”

His lips were on her’s before she could reply; his breath hot and sweet as his mouth opened up under hers and his tongue flickered. His hand slid down to her lower back, teasing, and her’s moved up to cradle his face, running her thumbs over the rough skin, finding a spot he’d missed shaving that morning. Eliza wanted nothing more than to push him back onto the bed and surrender, give in to the promise of more that was contained within that kiss. But she found her senses, remembering that they had a cringingly elaborate engagement party to be at in a half hour. Alex whined as she pulled away from him, clearly he wasn’t feeling as sensible as her.

“Eliza?” he groaned, his eyes pleading.

“We can’t be late for our own engagement party, Alex, my mom actually would kill us,” she sighed.

“Sure we can!” he insisted.

Eliza grinned and shook her head sadly, though she was enjoying his desperation a little as she pressed herself against him, her hand tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Well the minute we get home you can do whatever you like with me. But until then you’re going to have to find some self control, my love.”

Alex snorted, sarcastically, “Oh great. Because self control’s my middle name.”

Eliza pulled him towards the door, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “It’s five hours Alex, I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Alex was not managing. Not at all.

He was doing his best, trying to concentrate on the food or the music or the people who kept coming up to take his hand and congratulate him on his impending wedding but that wasn’t working out as well as he was hoping. Almost every time, Eliza would slide her arms through his as she told once of her many relatives that Alex couldn’t keep track of the story of how he’d proposed to her in Central Park or her hand would brush his leg as they sat next to each other or he’d notice the way her eyes caught the low light or the way it shone in her dark hair and his mind would start to…wander. She just looked so hot, so beautiful, so good. All he wanted to do was take her and press her against the wall, free her hair from the elegant bun it was in and slide his hand under that dress, without a goddamn care for where they were or who was watching. And she was his. She’d given him her heart to hold in his own hands. He could scarcely believe it.

The night dragged on and on and eventually Alex just snapped.

There was a spare moment just before the speeches, as people were milling around and Alex saw his chance. He took Eliza by the hand and led her by the hand out into the hallway of the crazily fancy hotel Catherine Schuyler had decided to throw this party in.

“Honey, what are you-“

That was all Eliza had time to say before Alex kissed her so furiously, so passionately that she was practically lifted off the floor.

Eliza’s mouth fell open as they pulled apart for air, a protest about the fact that her entire family was right on the other side of that wall on her lips. But she paused for a moment and what she actually said was, “I’ve been waiting for you to do that all fucking night.”

Alex gave a low, short laugh of relief and delight, kissing her again with even more fervor.

“How long have we got before I have to go out there and wow everybody with a romantic and touching speech about how much I love you?” Alex panted, his eyes glittering wickedly.

“About three minutes?” Eliza guessed, “But…they can’t exactly start without us can they? So…”

“Bathroom?”

“Bathroom.”

It was a full twenty minutes before Angelica managed to track down the two of them as they came running down the stairs, both of them breathless and looking very rumbled.

“Mom is losing her mind, where the hell have you guys-“ Angelica demanded before her face turned grim as she took in the meaning of that smudge of lipstick on Alex’s neck and the brightness in Eliza’s eyes, “Oh for God’s sake you guys. Can’t you keep it in your pants for five minutes?”

Alex had the grace to look meek, “Sorry.”

Eliza simply gave her sister a wink, on something of a post-sex high, “Hey, it’s my engagement party, if I want to go off and fuck my fiancé in the bathroom, I can.”

Angelica mimed being sick, while Alex’s face only grew redder.

“You guys are the worst. Get in there before mom has an aneurysm,” Angelica sighed, steering them towards the ballroom.

Although she had to shake her head and smile as she watched Alex put his arm around Eliza as they walked back into the party, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head.

As long as Eliza was happy, she reminded herself, and it looked like she definitely was.


	8. Slow Dancing

Alexander Hamilton was good at an awful lot of things. Dancing, however, was not one of them.

At clubs, once he was sufficiently drunk, he was enthusiastic enough at least although Eliza sometimes found herself having to step back a little to avoid his arms. She’d charitably describe his style as someone trying to fend off a swarm of wasps set to music. Alex preferred to liken it to someone receiving a powerful electric shock while underwater. Whatever it was, it was fine for a nightclub after about five shots but, for their wedding, it clearly wasn’t going to suffice.

So, one day, Alex came home from work to their small apartment, finding the furniture pushed back against the wall and a look on his fiancée’s face that plainly told him she wasn’t taking no for an answer. She was going to teach him to dance.

“Eliza, you know I’m not much of a dancer,” Alex sighed, rocking on his heels in the middle of the empty space, rolling up his shirtsleeves and looking very, very nervous.

“That’s why I’m going to teach you,” Eliza insisted as she messed with the old record player Angelica had given her for her last birthday, trying to sound more confident that she actually felt.

“Sweetheart, you know I think you’re the best right?” he pulled a concerned face, “But teaching me not to dance like an idiot might be beyond even you.”

Eliza had finally wrestled one of the many vinyls of classical music she’d inherited from her mother onto the turntable. She turned to the man who was going to be her husband in a few weeks, tilting her head, putting on those pleading eyes she knew he had absolutely no willpower against.

“Will you at least let me try?” she asked, crossing over and squeezing his shoulders reassuringly.

Of course Alex relented almost immediately, “Fine…if you promise not to laugh.”

“I promise,” she planted a swift, easy kiss on his nose as the slightly crackly opening of the Vienna Waltz filled the space.

For a moment, Eliza was dislocated from her living room and flung back to the dining room of the Schuyler house, where she was seven years old and sweeping around the polished floor in her socks, Angelica’s strong, sure arms leading her through the music that the two of them were as familiar with as the sound of their own voices. But here and now, instead, she was stood in her first apartment with the first person she’d ever loved outside of her family, a dancing partner she’d found all by herself. Eliza smiled at the wonder of it.

“Okay, ready?” she began, guiding his hands to her waist and her shoulder, “One, two, three and four…”

Her promise not to laugh proved difficult to keep.

Alex had a face on like he was diffusing a bomb, his back stiff and his arms and legs tight, it was a wonder he didn’t creak as he moved awkwardly through the steps Eliza showed him. There were nerves and hesitation in every inch of him; he was practically shaking with it.

“Alex,” Eliza tried helpfully, after a few rigid circuits around the room, “Maybe if you relaxed a little?”

“Okay,” he muttered vaguely, thought his eyes stayed fixed firmly on his feet and there was no discernable difference in his posture. He was even counting along under his breath for Christ’s sake.

Twenty minutes later and Alex had only succeeded in getting more and more frustrated.

“Fuck!” he exploded suddenly; jumping away from her as he managed to accidentally kick Eliza in the ankles for the third time, “Fuck me.”

“Alex, it’s okay,” Eliza soothed, rubbing at the new bruise on her leg absently, “You’re getting there!”

“I’m not though, am I?” he groaned, collapsing on the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat, “Look, I’m sorry, Eliza, I really am but I am not cut out for this.”

Eliza paused a moment, studying his anguished face. She thought she saw what was going on.

“Look, honey,” she said softly, going to sit beside him, squirreling in under his arm, her hand resting on his knee, “It’s fine if you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous,” Alex, insisted, way too quickly, “I’m just shit at dancing.”

Eliza gave him a look. He caved quickly.

“Okay, maybe I am nervous, but can you blame me? Look Eliza, I really can’t wait to be married to you but…this whole production, with all your family, its just kind of…big.”

Eliza nodded quietly. She understood. Alex put a lot of pressure on himself, because of who he was and where he’d come from, no matter how many times she insisted otherwise.

“Listen, Alex, I really don’t care how…how well you dance,” Eliza leant her head on his shoulder, knowing he’d read into that pause what she was really trying to say, “I just want to marry you. Because I love you. Yeah?”

Alex ran his hand through his hair, managing to relax ever so slightly, “Yeah. I know. I love you too.”

This time when Eliza kissed him, there was nothing swift about it. She pulled him towards her and kissed him long and hard; trying to pour everything she couldn’t find the words for into that touch. Alex was blushing and smiling when she let him go, looking considerably happier.

“So, can we try again?” Eliza asked, jumping to her feet and holding out her hand for him to take, “And this time, maybe instead of looking at the floor…you look at me?”

Alex steeled himself and nodded, taking the hand she offered him, “Okay. Let’s go again.”

This time, they had a lot more success. Instead of fretting over the steps and the music and the million other things he’d been stressing over, he just looked at Eliza. Her face, her radiant smile, the way her eyes shone when she saw him relax and start to enjoy himself.

He loved her so much. Maybe this was going to work out okay.

“That was great!” Eliza was practically jumping up and down with excitement as the song faded out, beaming at him, “You were so much better!”

Alex laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, “I’m hardly Fred Astaire…but it was okay. You did the impossible, my love.”

Eliza punched the air triumphantly, grinning at him wildly.

Alex caught her by the shoulders and kissed her again, sliding his arms around her waist.

“Okay so how about we go do another physical activity?” he suggested, his voice suddenly low and warm, “One that I definitely know I’m good at?”

Eliza snorted with laughter and rolled her eyes but followed him eagerly as he pulled her towards the bedroom.


	9. 16) A Naughty Kiss

Eliza had never though she’d ever see Alexander Hamilton nervous. He moved through life with such bravado, such easy confidence, shouting above everyone else like there was no way he could ever be wrong. Nervousness just didn’t seem to be part of his DNA.

But then she fell in love with him. And Eliza began to see so many sides of Alex that she’d never thought she’d see.

They’d been going out for nearly four months now and their friends were starting to make jokes, asking of it wasn’t a little too early for them to be moving in together. Because it was true, Alex was now basically living in Eliza’s dorm; on an evening he’d be doing his work curled up at the foot of her bed, there was a pile of his clothes in the corner he just picked from every day and they somehow managed to make a single bed work for two. Every time Eliza called her sisters on Skype, Alex would always be in the background somewhere, pretending he was reading rather than eavesdropping, though he couldn’t stop himself grinning and snickering at every slightly lame joke Eliza made. Angelica and Peggy would just roll their eyes and give each other a look. As long as Eliza was happy, they were happy (and judging by the way she blushed and beamed every time Alex reached over and wrapped his arms around her or stroked her hair as if he was just reminding himself she was there, she was very happy). That didn’t stop the other Schuylers making loud retching noises every time Alex interrupted their conversation by kissing Eliza like he just couldn’t help himself.

“Um, I think I need to go,” Eliza stammered once he’d released her, blushing and hiding the goofiest of grins behind her hand, “Can we, ah…call it a night? I-I’ve got work to do…”

“Work? Is that Alex’s new nickname then?” Peggy muttered, making Angelica snort with laughter.

“What was that?” Eliza asked, turning back to her sisters, she’d been too distracted by Alex’s hands which had moved to her hips.

“Nothing,” Peggy replied sweetly, “Goodnight you crazy kids. Get some sleep.”

‘Don’t stay up too late,” Angelica warned, rolling her eyes.

Almost the instant the screen went dark, Alex reached over and slid the laptop off of her lap, taking her by the shoulders and pressing his lips to her neck. She shivered happily as his touch raised goose bumps on her skin, his voice low and warm in her ear.

“I love you,” he murmured, almost reverently.

“I love you too,” she sighed, letting him lay her out on the bed, pulling him towards her hitching her legs up around his hips and anchoring him against her.

It was becoming something like torture, having to sit through classes and college every day, waiting for the moment they could lock the door and fall into bed together. They were still discovering new things about each other every time, like each other’s bodies were continents to be carefully mapped out and explored and claimed.

They kissed until they were breathless, prioritizing each other over oxygen. Hands slid under clothes and across skin, their legs tangling and fingers entwining. It wasn’t long before Eliza could feel Alex through his jeans and she was close to begging. They needed each other so bad it was almost painful.

He pulled away a little, at first to undo the buttons of her shirt as fast as humanly possible but then he stopped.

All of a sudden he looked nervous. Alexander Hamilton actually looked nervous.

“Alex?” Eliza panted, “What’s wrong?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip, a blush rising in his cheeks, like he really wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

“Um…Eliza, I was thinking…maybe this time we could try something a bit…different?” he stammered, nervously playing with a strand of her hair.

Eliza blinked, starting to grin, “Okay…”

“I mean…if you don’t like it, all you have to do is tell me, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want, I-I mean-“

“Alex,” Eliza cut across him, gently but firmly, reaching up and tracing along his jaw with one finger, “It’s okay, honestly. I trust you. I love you.”

Alex looked blindsided for a moment, as if those words alone were enough to shake him to his very core, before his eyes softened and began to glitter with anticipation. He smiled and nodded, “Okay, just let me…”

After a few minutes of slightly ungainly wriggling and fumbling, they were both naked. They both took a moment to run their eyes over each other, laughing excitedly before surrendering.

Alex began to kiss her, beginning at her lips and then moving down her body, the base of her neck and her chest, across her stomach and even further. Flashing a slightly nervous but very enthusiastic grin at her, he gently pushed her legs apart and bent between them.

Eliza opened her mouth in surprise but there was barely a moment before Alex’s lips pressed down on her and everything stopped. She breathed in sharply, her whole body tensing, her eyes closing in delight.

“How…how’s that?” Alex breathed, pulling away slightly, his voice trembling like he could barely control himself, “Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Eliza squeaked, her voice propelled up a few octaves, “Yes.”

Alex laughed so low it was more of a growl and ran his tongue over his teeth. He bent back to work.

Eliza tried to hold on, to pace herself. But it wasn’t long before she was seizing handfuls of the blanket below her, her back arching and hips bucking, practically screaming in release, no longer in control of her body, giving herself over completely to Alex and his mouth.

Both of them were out of breath by the time they were finished, grinning widely like they couldn’t quite believe what they had, wondering how they’d deserved this much happiness. Eliza pulled Alex towards her, resting his head on her chest, the two of them curling up against each other.

“So sounded like you enjoyed that, huh?” Alex sighed a little smugly, enjoying the rapid and steady pound of her head beat against his head.

“Um, yeah,” Eliza smiled, a little embarrassed. It was her turn to be nervous, “Yeah that was kind of…amazing. But, I mean…did you enjoy it? Was it good for- for you?”

Alex lifted his head, resting his narrow chin on her chest, smiling almost reverently, “Of course. I want to make you happy, Eliza. I love you.” 

She threaded her fingers through his hair, studying the face of the person she loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world.

“I love you too.”

She really was learning a lot about Alexander Hamilton.


	10. 5) A Reunion Kiss

Alexander Hamilton had never considered himself the kind of man who’d enjoy a quiet life. For him, everything had always been about moving faster, talking louder, working harder so he never had to slow down and dwell on the thoughts that lay in the back of his mind and in his past. He’d actively sought out noise and clamor and activity, dreading the moments when he’s be left alone with his own brain. He’d loved hard, hated bitterly, yelled loudly and fought every moment of his life.

But that had been what ruined him. And what had ruined everyone around him, the people who, despite everything he was, loved him. He’d hurt them and he was always going to have to live with that.

So now, in the aftermath of it all, as the dust and ash was settling, Alex found that he actually liked the quiet; in a way he’d never thought he would. The quiet held the voices of his lost son, the memories of when everything had been simple and beautiful and he’d been too fucking stupid to realize its fragility.

The quiet was also where he found his wife, his Eliza. Waiting, though not for him. But she was there and he needed her, the way he’s always needed her, but now so more than ever.

Eliza had forgiven him.

He kept turning that thought over in his mind like it was a precious piece of glass, nearly too beautiful to be true but scarily fragile, if he tried to press to hard he’d break it and he couldn’t bear that.

Alex just didn’t understand. He was never going to forgive himself for what he’d done, how on earth could she? But he decided not to question it, not to press too hard. So he just accepted it, desperately, like he was a drowning man who’d been handed a rope, although he’d never understand until the day he died.

So he just nodded, tears running down his wind bitten face, when Eliza had caught him by the arm and quietly asked if he was coming to bed, and followed her without questioning this breathtaking gift of forgiveness he’d somehow been deemed worthy of.

She’d told him in an achingly sad whisper, as they’d stood in the garden one night. She’d come up behind him, interrupting a one sided conversations he’d been having with his son.

Alex had been doing that a lot lately. He’d mutter the words under his breath and they’d taste raw and bitter in his mouth but he had so many things he still felt like he needed to say to Philip. Desperate, frantic apologies mostly. The therapist had suggested that maybe talking to his son, writing letters and just throwing them away, maybe it would help him. So Alex would walk for miles, aimless treks across what felt like the whole length of New York city, rambling under his breath, addressing someone who just wasn’t there and trying to find some kind of closure or end to the pain in the restless tide of words. But the lack of an answer to his desperate pleas for forgiveness always hurt him more than if he’d never opened his mouth. He kept doing it, though, because what else could Alexander Hamilton do but talk?

He’d stopped dead, sensing her behind him before she actually reached him. He’d been able to smell her perfume; she was so close. He’d been able to sneak a glance out of the corner of his eye and see her face, all it’s usual kindness and openness that he’d once relied on to remind him he was loved turned to stony grief. It hurt to look at her.

Alex had been so scared. The night before he’d broken down, all the words he’d been keeping in breaking free in one stupid, selfish rush as he’d stood in the doorway of his office and she’d had her back to him. He hadn’t waited for her to turn around; he hadn’t expected an answer or at least not any answer he wanted to hear. He’d just shut the door and cursed his own idiotic mouth until sickness and exhaustion had dragged him into sleep.

And now she was standing beside him. Alex was honestly scared.

But all Eliza had done was reach out and take his hand. She’d threaded her finger’s through his, squeezing ever so slightly.

“I…I forgive you, Alex,” she’d murmured in a sad, faraway voice but it was still the voice of his Eliza.

And he’d just broken. Alex had cried until he couldn’t stand up any more, sinking to the floor, bending under the weight of it all, so close to tearing apart under the weight of unimaginable forgiveness. But Eliza had knelt beside him on the grass, her arms around him, her head leaning against his shoulder, keeping him together.

That night, when he walked, he had someone with him, someone other than the dead. An actual arm to lean against, a voice to keep him tethered to where he should be and stop him from falling. A hand in his, holding him tightly and safely.

It was late when they got back. Time didn’t really mean a lot to Alex and Eliza anymore.

Moving almost on automatic, Alex moved towards the door of his office. But Eliza’s hand didn’t leave his. She hung on. He turned to her with a curious expression.

Eliza gave him a small, sad smile, “Come to bed?”

Alex blinked at her, realizing what she meant. He didn’t understand. But he didn’t care.

“Eliza…” he murmured in disbelief, in joy.

She pulled him towards her and kissed him. The touch of her lips was familiar but he’d made himself forget it, thinking that he didn’t deserve it. To have it back again was more happiness than he’d ever thought he’d had again. His arms wrapped around her, falling into their old positions, one at her waist and the other gently cradling her face while her’s slipped up to his shoulders. It was a long time before they could bring themselves to part.

“Come to bed,” Eliza said again, not a question any more.

Alex nodded, vaguely aware of the tears running down his face.

He hung back a little to watch her walk up the stairs before he followed willingly. He had to shake his head in sheer, utter disbelief at the wonder of her. His wife, Eliza, the best woman he’d ever known.


	11. 8) A First Kiss

In which Alex is a loveable mess and Eliza is too good for him

Eliza set one of the mugs of tea down on the table and wrapped her hands around the other as she sat back in her desk chair. She wondered what on earth she was going to do next.

Alex was still asleep, unsurprisingly. He was still half clothed, in that grey sweater he insisted on wearing even to clubs but at least he’d let her take his jeans off. Her comforter was wrapped around him like he’d crashed out in the middle of trying to wear it as a toga and he was snoring through a mouthful of his own hair. He was going to have a hell of a hangover when he woke up, Eliza thought grimly, so she’d decided to let him sleep, let him avoid that for as long as possible.

And, on top of that, she still hadn’t exactly decided how she was going to deal with what had happened last night.

Alex had been going out a lot since he and Laurens broke up a week ago. It had been…messy to say the least. The subject of the argument that had ended their relationship wasn’t common knowledge yet but the two of them still weren’t talking, despite Eliza and Herc and Laf’s collective best efforts. Alex way of dealing with things seemed to be to get incredibly drunk and show up in the mornings with red eyes and dark bruises under his eyes rather than actually discuss about what was wrong with him. It was starting to get worrying; Eliza especially had been losing sleep over him.

“I think he just needs to, ah, blow off some steam?” Hercules had reassured her yesterday as they’d sat working in the library, interrupting another one of Eliza’s fretful monologues about Alexander “I think Al’s just…working through some things.”

Eliza had nodded but her mouth had twisted and her fingers had knotted together like they always did when she was nervous. What she didn’t mention to Hercules or Lafayette was that she had spent a long and rough time wrestling with her unrequited crush on Alex, reconciling herself with the fact that it could never be anything more than that, her having feelings for someone who was never going to like her back. And to see Alex so cut up over something she’d had to work so hard to make herself okay with, to see two people she really cared about falling apart, to have all the feelings she’d worked so hard to ignore clamoring in her head again…

“What a shit show,” Angelica had commented dryly after Eliza had called her for one of her usual regular updates on her college drama. Eliza couldn’t have put it better herself.

And when Alex had drunkenly called her last night, slurring and sobbing that he was stood on her doorstep, could she please let him in, he was so sorry, Eliza had sensed that things were only going to get more complicated.

Eliza shifted anxiously in her seat, trying to think of something else to do other than sit there and stare at Alex as he slept, but whenever she tried to pick up a book or turn to her laptop, she’d hear his words again.

I…I think I love you, Eliza. I think I’ve a-always…had a crush on you. I’m sorry.

Granted, he’d said it with his voice cracking, tears running down his face from his blurred, unfocused eyes, as Eliza had been trying to get him to drink some water and lie down.

But he’d definitely said it. And Eliza’s heart had stopped in her chest, juddering to a halt in a way it had only ever done once before, when she’d first caught sight of Alexander across the room at that party almost six months ago.

I’m so sorry, I-I shouldn’t have fucking said anything but I-I just…I think I’m in love with- with you.

Oh no, she’d thought mutely, her head falling into her hands. Oh no.

Eliza jumped a mile as Alex began to cough and groan, his eyelids snapping open, his eyes red and aching. He tried to sit up but his skin paled and he moaned, screwing his eyes shut like he was focusing really, really hard on not being sick.

“Morning,” Eliza tried carefully, rising out of her seat in case she needed to make any sudden movements, “So you, ah, have a good time last night?”

Alex blinked, taking a deep breath before he spoke, “Eliza I am so, so, so unbelievably sorry. I am officially the worst person ever.”

“No, its okay,” Eliza gave a small laugh, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m glad you came here rather than did something even stupider.”

She passed him the mug, “I made you some tea. Thought it might help.”

Alex took it gratefully, with a deep seated sigh of relief, “Ah, thanks, Eliza, you’re the best. I love-“

He stopped dead, his bloodshot eyes going wide. Eliza froze too, her teeth closing on her lower lips, her eyes flickering downwards.

He’d said that to her a hundred times, half jokingly, the way you said it to a friend you cared deeply about. But now…

In that moment, it became terrifyingly obvious. Alex remembered everything, turning up plastered and crying on her doorstep, a mess. And he remembered what he’d said, every stupid, drunken word.

“I…um…Eliza, I…” Alex began but he didn’t get very far. He didn’t know what to say.

That was a first.

“I should really go,” he said quickly, beginning to scramble to his feet, “This was so stupid of me, Eliza, I’m so sorry. I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying but…Just, just ignore what I said.”

Eliza blinked, her hand suddenly darting out and taking hold of his, holding him in place. They both jumped a little, even Eliza, as if her hand had moved of its own volition.

“Ignore it?” Eliza repeated, again like the words were coming from someone other than her, like she was standing off the side, watching herself rather than actually taking part.

‘So you didn’t mean it when you said…when you said you were in love with me?”

The moment of silence between them stretched on and on. Both of them got the sense that some kind of tectonic chasm was threatening to open up between them and that, if they didn’t hold on tight to each other, they’d suddenly find themselves miles apart.

“No, I…I did mean it,” Alex murmured, his hazy brown eyes finding her’s. They looked so…deep. And scared, “It was stupid and selfish of me to say it but I meant every word, Eliza.”

She still had his hand in her’s. She held on tightly.

“I…I like you. A lot. I might even love you, I probably do. And I’m sorry about that.”

Eliza moved quickly, jumping forward before she could think better of it, kissing him hard. There was the barest of pauses before he kissed her back, relief and surprise and wary delight in his touch.

It was swift, hesitant. Eliza pulled away, her mouth suddenly tasting of stale beer and hangover. Alex laughed apologetically.

“Sorry…that was probably the worst first kiss ever,” he laughed helplessly, his voice hoarse.

Eliza smiled, laughing too, “No, don’t apologise. Seriously. Its fine.”

“Can I, um, go brush my teeth and we can try again?” he asked hopefully.

Eliza nodded, a pleased blush rising in her cheeks; “We could go for a walk, if you like. Talk about…this? Us?”

“Us…” Alex repeated, clearly liking the sound of that, the implication of that simple pronoun, “Okay. Yeah. We can…talk.”

There was an awful lot contained in that pause. She bit her lower lip, her eyes shining, “You can use my toothbrush.”

Eliza watched Alex stumble to his feet (he needed a little help) and walk carefully to her little bathroom. For a slit second he turned and caught her eye again and they both smiled, kind of terrified, kind of overwhelmed, kind of unbelievably scarily happily.

Once the door was closed, Eliza sighed into the empty room, taking another swallow of tea to wash away the taste of Alex’s night out.

Kind of a rocky start. But she had the feeling this could really go somewhere. Maybe somewhere good.


	12. 17) Love Bite

Alex tried not to make a racket as he unlocked the door and dropped his bags and coat in the hall. It was late, almost one in the morning. The kids and Eliza would be in bed and as desperate as he was to see them after his week away, he didn’t want to wake them up. Red eye flights were the cheapest but they made for an awkwardly timed, anticlimactic return home.

It was so good to be back though. He took on every long distance conference and assignment Washington gave him, recognizing the trust and confidence each one showed for his young Treasury Secretary. But, God, he missed his family when he was away. Every time Alex found himself in this position, exhausted, with an aching neck, carrying luggage that contained more papers and spreadsheets than it did actual things a living human being needed, he felt the relief of stepping back into his own home and promised himself that he was never leaving again. He smiled fondly at the framed pictures in the hallway, six nearly identical ones of a tired but ecstatic looking Alex and Eliza in a hospital room with the newborn baby in her arms, pictures of the family windswept and grinning in a snowy central park, one of just the two of them on the stoop outside their first apartment building and Alex would swear he was done, that he’d turn down the next offer of a speech out in Washington. He wryly nudged an upturned toy train out of his path with his toe, remembering its position for when Jamie inevitably asked where it was the next morning and he reminded himself that his kids deserved better. That Eliza deserved better. That he’d make sure he was around more and he wouldn’t stay so late at the office and he’d make more time for his family.

Every time he made these promises to himself. Whether he actually kept it this time would be another matter.

Alex was halfway through to the living room and halfway out of his tie when he noticed the soft light coming in through the door. He rolled his eyes and sighed but he couldn’t help the smile that lit up his face. He’d texted Eliza from the airport, making her promise that she wouldn’t wait up for him and she’d go to bed and get some rest. He should have known that she’d been lying through her teeth; she did this every time. But he just couldn’t find it in him to be angry; he’d missed her so much. Her smile was exactly what he needed right now.

“Hey the-“ he began as he walked through but he stopped short with a bark of laughter at the sight of his wife sprawled out on the sofa like she’d fallen onto it from a height, snoring softly, the book she’d apparently been reading hanging limply from the arm she’d thrown across her face. Alex shook his head despairingly, sniggering into his sleeve so he didn’t disturb her as he came and sank to his knees in front of her.

“At least you tried,” he murmured, more to himself though he was addressing her, “I appreciate the effort.”

He was going to have to wake her; there was no way he was getting her up the stairs. He let himself have a moment though, as he gently placed his hand on her hip, running his thumb over her soft skin, reaching out to brush the hair away from her forehead.

“Eliza,” he sang softly, gently, “Betsey? I’m back. Wake up.”

His wife screwed up her face, groaning, but then her eyes opened. The haze melted from them and they fixed on Alex’s face, it was like a light switch had been turned on in their dark depths.

“Alex!” her voice was croaky but the relief and happiness in it was obvious as she scrambled up and threw her arms around him.

They were both laughing bewilderedly as they embraced, both simultaneously wondering how they’d both gone a week without seeing each other.

“I missed you so much,” Eliza exclaimed, pulling away and holding his face in her hands, grinning delightedly.

“I missed you too,” Alex murmured, those words simply not enough to express how much he’d missed her warmth and her smile and how easy and simple everything suddenly became when she was around.

They let their foreheads rest against each other for a while as they just marveled in being able to touch each other again.

“You didn’t need to stay up for me,” he reminded her with a sigh, noticing how tired she looked.

“Yeah I did,” she replied simply, with a shrug, “I wanted to see you.”

Alex smirked as he noticed she was wearing his sweatshirt. She always stole his clothes while he was away. It was adorably big on her, her hands lost in the sleeves. He also happened to notice that she wasn’t wearing an awful lot else, just some shorts (he suspected those were his too). His hands migrated to her hips, almost of their own accord.

“How are the guys?” Alex asked before he was distracted entirely.

“They can’t wait to see you. Getting them to go to bed was a nightmare,” she admitted, a warning in her tone, “I wouldn’t expect to sleep in tomorrow.”

He smiled. That was fine by him.

“So…” Eliza continued, not a scrap of tiredness left in her dark eyes, “I missed you like crazy so how about you postpone telling me all the details of whatever financial wizardry you were doing and instead we go to bed and hardcore make out until we fall asleep?”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up and his grin turned excited, “I think I’d like that.”

The next day, Washington looked up from the notes he’d made for today’s meeting and scanned the room. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, his eyes stopped on Alexander Hamilton and his expression turned exasperated.

“Alexander, care to tell me and the rest of the cabinet why you’re wearing a knitted scarf when it’s the middle of June and ridiculously hot outside?” he sighed, not even bothering to hide his distain.

Alex didn’t look at him, staring straight ahead and hitching the scarf up a little so there was absolutely no chance of any of his neck being visible. 

“No sir,” he muttered quietly, willing himself not to blush.

God damn you Eliza, he thought.


	13. 30) Sharing a bath/swim

It was only when they were finally out of sight of the enormous Schuyler house, when the huge pine trees had finally closed over their heads that Alex began to relax. He threaded his arm through Eliza’s, pulling her close to him as they walked through the night; he became himself again.

Eliza smiled. She knew how nervous Alex had been to spend a week of their summer up in Albany with her and her family; he’d been fretting about it for months. But he really was doing so well, instantly winning over her dad and her siblings, even drawing a smile from her mother with one of his wry jokes about government policy. So she’d decided that he deserved a break. While the rest of the family were in the lounge, the noise from one of Angelica’s usual playful arguments with their dad audible from the hallway, she’d taken his hand and lead him out into the garden. Alex had grinned and followed willingly.

“Can you please tell Angelica and Peggy to stop pulling faces at me behind your mom’s back when I’m trying to talk to her?” Alex asked, his face upturned so he could see the stars through the trees. It had been a long time since he’d seen a sky like that. 

Eliza swallowed back a bark of laughter and decided not to mention that she’s been well aware that her sister’s were doing that, “I’ll mention it.”

There was a pause before he asked, in a quiet way that suggested he’d been waiting a long time to ask this, “Am I doing okay?”

Eliza smiled and squeezed his hand, “You’re doing brilliantly.”

At first they were wandering aimlessly, not paying attention to where they were going, so wrapped up in each other. But then Eliza had another idea. She knew exactly where she was taking him.

His expression when she pulled him through the hole in the bushes and he saw the lake laid out in front of him, it made it worth it that Ange and Peg were going to murder him for bringing anyone who wasn’t a Schuyler sister to their hideaway. They’d always come here as girls, lying on the grass and braiding each other’s hair and climbing the trees, swimming in the lake.

“Holy shit,” Alex gaped admiringly, squinting a little against the moonlight reflecting off the midnight black water.

That was when he caught sight of the slightly lopsided fort off by the tree line, the one with the beautifully hand sewn curtains and a chalk drawing of three girls in a pink, a blue and a yellow dress on the side and a crudely painted sign that declared ‘Fort Schuyler’ in a rainbow of colors.

Alex’s grin was a mile wide and he gestured at it while raising his eyebrows at Eliza, seemingly too delighted to speak.

She blushed a little but put her hands on her hips, smiling triumphantly, “Took us a whole summer to build that. You like it?”

“It is unbelievable,” Alex laughed in disbelief, walking over and running the curtains through his fingers, recognizing his girlfriend’s sewing immediately, “Explains a lot about you guys.”

While he was distracted, Eliza grinned and in one smooth motion, pulled her dress up over her head and dropped it on the ground. When Alex turned back around, his jaw hit his chest and he made a strangled noise of simultaneous arousal and surprise in his throat.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Eliza’s voice was low and sultry, making Alex’s hair stand on end and electricity buzz through his veins.

He felt it rise up in his chest, the old fear, but he stamped down hard on it before his expression could change. He couldn’t. He wasn’t going to, not now.

“I would love to,” he answered, a heated smile dawning on his face.

It was going to be fine. Just focus on Eliza.

Eliza didn’t even feel the cold as she walked into the lake; she let it swallow her like it was claiming her, like she belonged there. She laughed wildly and ducked underneath the water, spinning and twisting onto her back like an otter so she could see the stars through the surface; smudged and scattered across the sky like Van Gogh himself had painted them.

“Come on scaredy cat!” she cried aloud once she was back up, and once she’d clawed her soaking hair away from her face, “Ten dollars if you’ll put your head under the-!”

Eliza stopped. Alex was still shivering at the fringe of the lake, hugging himself. Something was wrong. She swam back to the water’s edge, her expression curious and more than a little worried.

“Alexander? Is something wrong?” she called, kneeling in the mud, the water up to her navel.

He jumped like he’d just been woken from a nightmare, like he was only just noticing her.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sorry I just, um…” he stammered, shaking his head as if to clear it, “I just blanked there for a…um, yeah I’m coming in now.”

But he didn’t move. It was like he was willing his limbs to go forward but they simply wouldn’t obey.

Eliza frowned. She got to her feet and walked back onto the grass. She stood in front of Alex, her large eyes studying him.

“Alex? Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she murmured quietly, reaching out and taking his hand. It was shaking.

“I’m fine, Betsey, what do you…what do you mean,” Alex tried lamely but his voice trailed off, his expression sinking into something so desperately sad. He sighed heavily and gave up.

They sat on the front step of Fort Schuyler, Eliza’s arm around Alex’s waist, both of them wearing nothing but their coats. His voice was low, barely audible, and so scared he sounded like a small child that had woken up from a nightmare.

“There was a hurricane when I was seventeen, it ripped through my town. I hid in the cellar of the store where I worked; I was completely on my own. All I could hear was the water above me and the wind howling like it was furious at me, like…like it wanted me dead. I just hid in the corner with a blanket over my head and cried while the store above me was torn to pieces, when I went up afterwards and there was just, there was nothing. Not even any rubble just bare earth like it had never existed at all.”

Eliza didn’t say a word, she just held onto him so tightly, like she was never going to let go of him. Tears were running down his face but his voice stayed level, like the words simply couldn’t stop. Eliza was getting choked up herself.

“Hours and hours I was down there, I didn’t sleep I just…waited. I waited to die, for the water to burst down the cellar door and drown me. I just accepted it but I was so, so scared. So yeah I…I don’t really like water. So.”

Eliza swallowed hard and hugged him to her, feeling it as his shoulders began to shake and he broke down. It was a long, long time before either of them could speak.

“Alex, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Eliza began but he cut across her.

‘No, don’t apologise, it’s okay. I should have told you,” he insisted, hanging onto her hand like the storm was still raging and she was his one anchor.

But he had that now. That scared kid who’d felt so alone had someone to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to be okay.

“I’ve never told anyone else that before,” Alex mumbled, “You’re the first person I’ve trusted enough to share that with.”

Tears threatened to overtake Eliza again but she blinked them back furiously, just holding him safe.

“I love you, Alex,” she murmured, pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you too,” he managed to gasp out before their lips met and they melted against each other.

They made love on the grass, under the stars and then they lay on their backs and Alex told Eliza all about the constellations as he rested his head on her chest and she played with her hair.

And it was beautiful.


	14. 24) Slow Dancing

“Dad!” Philip yelped accusatorily, his already furious blush only getting worse, “You promised you wouldn’t cry!’

“I’m not crying!” Alex protested, hurriedly putting a sleeve to his eyes, “It’s windy out today!”

“We’re indoors dad,” his son groaned, tucking his shirt back in for the twelfth time in as many minutes and fiddling with the flower in his buttonhole again.

“Oh. Yeah. Well I’m not crying.”

Eliza stifled her laughter and slid her arm through the crook of Alex’s, pulling him close against her. It was true he was breaking a promise that Philip had immediately demanded from him, no more than a second after announcing that he was going to his first ever school dance. But she couldn’t blame her husband at all, even she was getting a little choked up at the sight of their eldest, their little boy, all dressed up and looking so grown up and handsome in his suit.

Eliza reached out her hand and tucked a stray hair behind her son’s ear; one of his curls had escaped his bun. His dad’s hair always did that too. In fact, he looked an awful lot like his father tonight.

“You look great, Pip,” she smiled, leaning her head on Alex’s shoulder, “Have a great time.”

Philip managed a smile, “Are you sure you’ve taken enough photos, mom? What if we lose the first five million you took?”

“I’m sure I’ll live,” Eliza smiled, equally sarcastic while Alex chuckled in the background, “I don’t want to make you late, I bet Theo’s waiting for you.”

“Yeah, get going bro,” Alex Jr shouted from the living room where he was sprawled on the couch reading a book, his usually quiet voice carrying all the way into the hall, “You don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting, it’s bad form.”

“Hey shut up!” Philip span, his face flaming, “She’s not my girlfriend, I’m taking Theo as a friend.”

Alex and Eliza shared a look. The fact that their eldest was besotted with his best friend Theodosia Burr was common knowledge in their family, with everyone apart from Philip himself it seemed. Alex kept insisting they say something but Eliza knew it would work itself out, the way these things tended to. Besides, if the two kids didn’t resolve their obvious romantic tension within a year, Alex would owe Eliza twenty dollars and there was only a month to go.

“Okay, okay,” Alex reached out and caught Philip’s shoulder, sliding into his authoritative courtroom voice, “Save your fight until after the dance, boys, Burr’s car just pulled up. You’ve got to go Philip.”

And he carefully steered his son out of the door before a proper fight could break out. Eliza waved to him from the doorstep.

“Have fun, Pip! Love you!” she called into the night, getting a bright white flash of a grin back.

Eliza stayed out in the cold for a moment after the car had disappeared round the bend, hugging herself as goose pimples raised on her bare arms. She smiled and sighed and ducked back inside.

“You can’t keep winding him up like that, Alexander, you know that,” Alex’s voice was severe as Eliza walked back into the living room.

“Well how about he just asks her out?” his namesake protested, not looking apologetic in any way, “I can’t keep living in this fog of sexual tension!”

“Alexander,” his father snapped, more exasperated than annoyed.

“Mommy?” little Jamie piped up from where he was sat on the floor, messing with one of his toy trains, probably trying to take it apart again, “Can we have a dance? I want to dance like Philip.”

“Do you?” Eliza smiled at the welcome diversion.

“Yeah, I walked into his room one day and he was dancing around to this fancy music and it looked really fun, he said he was practicing for the dance-“

Alex Jr’s face lit up.

His father shot him a look, “You will not mention it.”

“So can we go to the dance too?” Jamie finished, hopefully.

Eliza smiled fondly, walking over to pick up the toddler, “Well Cinderella, we can’t really go to Philip’s dance but…we could have our own dance right here.”

Alex stifled a groan while their children gasped excitedly. Eliza grinned.

Alex wasn’t much of a dancer, he always insisted, but after a few glasses of wine, with Eliza’s old record player filling the room with Aretha Franklin and their kids spinning around the kitchen, taking turns doing exaggerated ballroom dancing routines, full of twirls and dips, even he could be persuaded. So when Alex Jr finally relinquished Eliza, instead sweeping a bemused Angie off her feet, and Eliza held her hand out to him, he blushed and ducked his head but accepted.

There was a chorus of whoops and heckles as Eliza lead him into the middle of the space they’d cleared in the kitchen and she put her arms around his neck and he rested his hands on her hips.

Yeah, Alex really wasn’t much of a dancer but Eliza could make anyone look good. She lead him through wide, sweeping circles, the two of them grinning like slightly embarrassed kids, swaying in time with the music. They even managed a twirl, Eliza spinning gracefully on the balls of her feet before he caught her and pulled her back into him, holding her tightly. Her dark eyes found his warm brown ones, she watched them soften and deepen the way they always did when she knew the rest of the world had fallen away and all he could see was her, his Eliza. She smiled back and rested her head against his shoulder, his heartbeat perfectly in time with the music, letting him lead her through the dance, trusting him completely.

The song faded out faster than either of them wanted. Alex rested his hands on Eliza’s jaw and kissed her, to a chorus of disgusted groans and shrieks from their kids.

“Animals!” Alex Jr declared, throwing his balled up socks at his dad’s head.

“Oh shut up,” his dad threw back, blushing and grinning while Eliza hid her smile behind her hand, “Come talk to me when you’re older.”

“Oh great,” his son replied, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

Alex reached over and pulled a weakly protesting Alex Jr into the embrace and before long a classic Hamilton family group hug was underway; the two parents lost under the squirming mass of their children.

“You’re a really good dancer, Mommy!” Jamie declared, hugging her legs tightly.

“Dad, you’ve got some things to work on,” Angie joked, resting her head on her dad’s shoulder.

“Oh, I don’t know” Eliza’s eyes found Alex’s again, her smile so achingly beautiful, so sure and happy, “He’s not too bad.”

Her husband grinned.


	15. 32. Getting Caught in the Act

“Okay, so we need to add the eggs,” Theo read the recipe from her phone, furrowing her brow in that way she did when she was concentrating, “But we need to add them a little bit at a time and stir in between each-“

“Whoops,” Philip squeaked.

Theo looked up to see her boyfriend looking apologetic, holding the empty bowl that had previously contained the eggs that he’d just upended into the cake batter. He grinned and shrugged apologetically. 

Theo felt like she should have anticipated this when Philip had asked her to help him bake a birthday cake for his littlest brother and she’d let him do anything more advanced than stir (she’d tried that but he’d nearly spilled it on the floor).

“Don’t worry, I’m sure that was more of a suggestion than an instruction,” she sighed, resisting the urge to press her fingers to her temples, “I mean, its not like this recipe was written by, I don’t know, a professional chef or anything, I’m sure we can play fast and loose with it…”

“I am sorry!” Philip insisted, as his girlfriend’s voice grew steadily more sarcastic, “Okay, I get it, I’m back on dish duty.”

Things went a little more smoothly after that. Before long, Theo was sliding an enormous chocolate cake out of the oven, making the whole of the Hamilton’s kitchen smell amazing. Philip was glad everyone else was out at the movies or else the kitchen would be so full of children it would be difficult to move.

The frosting then posed its own unique set of problems. Philip was enamored with the mountains of white powdery icing sugar and refused to be excluded. Within five minutes, it looked like it had been snowing indoors, white dustings on the counters, on the floor, in both of their hairs, pretty much everywhere but the top of the cake. Theo had tried to be angry but she took one look at Philip, looking like he’d stepped out of a black and white film, wrinkling his nose like a rabbit as it tickled and she was snorting with laughter. Philip got the giggles too and all of a sudden they were flicking icing sugar at each other, chasing each other around the kitchen.

And then all of a sudden Philip caught hold of Theo, span her towards him and they were kissing. And then all of a sudden her arms were around him and he was licking icing sugar from her neck. And her hands were sliding up his shirt.

“Bedroom?” he gasped as he pulled away just a little, his lips only an inch from her’s, his breath hot and sweet and smelling of chocolate.

“Yes please,” Theo grinned a dazzling smile, reaching up and brushing some sugar from his nose and licking it off her thumb. Philip made an involuntary moan, low in his throat.

All of their shyness, all of their hesitancy from just a few short weeks ago had disappeared completely, they fell into each other’s arms excitedly, practically tearing each other’s clothes off as they made their way to Philip’s bed. They were both giggling as he tumbled her onto her back and began pressing kisses to her stomach, his fingernails digging into her hips.

“You’re so beautiful,” Theo moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Philip grinned at her, so much love in his eyes. He was about to pounce on her but he paused, suddenly tipping his head curiously.

“Actually…” he began, suddenly all coy, “Would you mind if I tried something?”

Theo raised her eyebrows, starting to chew on her lip.

“Okay,” she murmured, eyes shining, “Okay, I trust you.”

Those few words meant an awful lot. Philip blinked, his smile softening, turning fond, “Okay. If you want me to stop, all you need to do is say.”

He shuffled onto his knees, running careful, almost reverent hands from her hips to her thighs, grinning mischievously as he slowly parted them. Theo was a little confused until he bent down between her legs.

“Oh, I get- oh. OH.”

The second his tongue touched her, just the tip, hesitant, searching; it was like he’d flipped a switch in her brain, like he’d reached into her and suddenly everything was so sharp and clear. She gasped delightedly, closing her eyes in rapture, suddenly taking fistfuls of the blanket beneath her.

“You, um, do you want this?” Philip asked, his heartbeat suddenly five times faster.

“Yes,” Theo gasped, practically begging.

That was all he needed to hear.

Philip dived down excitedly, his tongue pressing and darting, sweeping in wide circles. The noises she made were unbelievably hot, the most wonderful sounds he’d ever heard, better than any music. They spurred him on, directed him, and within minutes Theo’s back was arching, strangled gasps and moans and yelps escaping her lips, a furious blush growing across her chest. She’d never felt anything like this, nothing had ever come close to this, it was like there was electricity running through her veins.

“Oh God, Philip,” she groaned, rocking her hips, panting, “Please don’t stop, never stop, I’m going to- oh God!”

She was so close, she was so close to the edge, and Philip picked up the pace, triumphant, almost worshipful in the way he touched her, tasted her. Almost there…

“Hey, Philip, kiddo, the kitchen’s a mess are you going clean it up?”

The two of them froze; the whole world had ground to the halt at the sound of Alexander Hamilton’s voice echoing down the hall and the rhythm of his footsteps as he walked down the hall.

His dad was home. He was coming towards his son’s room. And he never knocked.

Oh no.

Philip moved at the speed of lightning, throwing his rug over Theo, over her head, swiping the pillow out from under her head and moving it over his crotch merely a split second before the door swung open and Alex walked in, “I mean, seriously, was there a snowstorm or something, Philip, it’s…oh.“

He stopped, his eyes widening far beyond the natural limit, his mouth open to finish off whatever lame joke he’d been about to make, his expression horrified. The silence stretched on an on, only getting more toe-curlingly unbearable. This is it; Theo thought mutely very glad of the blanket covering her face, this is how I die, I’m going to sink into the earth and they’ll never find my bones.

“Dad…” Philip said slowly, his voice several octaves higher than usual, barely in the audible range of hearing, “We’re kind of busy….”

Philip felt like he knew his father very well, that even for all his intelligence, he could still figure him out, in a manner of speaking.

But, until the day he died he would never, ever comprehend why Alexander Hamilton chose to do fucking finger guns at his son and the lump under the rug that was his son’s girlfriend before swiftly exiting the room and slamming the door behind him, so quickly there was only an Alex shaped cloud of dust where he’d been standing.

Philip sighed heavily, wondering what would be most efficient, simply jumping out of the window or going and drowning himself in the bath. Theo removed the blanket from her face by increments, looking like she’d seen a vision of hell.

“Okay, well, it was a nice relationship while it lasted. Sorry it had to end like this, I’ll maybe write you a letter after I’ve moved into my igloo out on the planes of Antarctica,” she groaned, beginning to ramble in that way she did when she was stressed, “I’ll learn to ice fish and drink snow melt for the rest of my life, I’ll get myself a pet walrus and get it to hunt for me-“

She stopped, catching Philip’s eye. They paused. And then they started the laugh, wild, frantic laughter that didn’t stop until their eyes were streaming, their chests hurt and they could scarcely stand.

Philip hovered on the threshold of his dad’s office. They’d been avoiding each other for hours now but he couldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight. He just had to bite the bullet and go for it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

‘Hey dad,” he’d been aiming for easy nonchalance but the crack in his voice might have ruined that, “I’m heading off to bed.”

Alex span to face him a little bit too quickly, leaning back in his chair like someone who was really, really trying to seem casual, “Oh, cool, cool.”

They hugged tightly, the way they always did. But when they pulled away, Alex looked like he was about to say something but it was leaving a horrible taste in his mouth.

“Um…okay, listen son…I want to talk to you about…um, about earlier?” he began hesitantly.

Oh please, Lord no, Philip thought, feeling himself go cold all over. But he didn’t say anything, just tensed like he was expecting a punch any second.

Alex looked like he was struggling, gesturing erratically, “Look…I, um, I get that you’re young and everything and…um…I kind of guessed what you were doing? And if you ever want any…um, I mean if you ever need…um, some advice? Or tips? I can-”

“Yeah, okay, no,” Philip span on his heels and power walked out of his dad’s office.

“Son, I’m being serious! We can talk about this!” Alex protested, starting to laugh uncontrollably.

“No, no we can’t dad! Goodnight!”

The next sound was Philip’s bedroom door shutting with a hard, final slam.

Alex fell back in his chair, laughing uncontrollably, nearly falling on the floor. There was just nothing else to do.

Eliza appeared in the doorway, frowning confusedly, “what’s up with you two?” she demanded.

Alex just shook his head, getting to his feet and pulling her into a hug so he could giggle into her hair.

“I’ll tell you later,” he promised, once he’d caught his breath.

Eliza wasn’t sure she wanted to know.


	16. 16. A Naughty Kiss

“Well hello there,” Philip asked in a theatrically sultry voice, sidling up to where Theo was leaning against the wall, “Do you come here often?”

Theo raised an eyebrow and gave him a withering look, “Really, Philip?”

“Sorry,” he grinned, not looking very sorry at all, “You do look nice though. Well, beautiful, actually.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, twitching the hem of her red dress. Almost without thinking, their hands found each other and their fingers threaded together, making the both of them smile. A few years in and it looked like they were actually finally getting used to this whole dating thing.

Theo’s dark eyes scanned the busy hall, full of people in ridiculously fancy suits and dresses and the low rumble of overly intellectual chatter. She couldn’t even see her dad anymore. She could see Philip’s dad though, over in the corner, throwing his hands in the air in wild gestures and almost spilling his drink as he relayed some anecdote to a group of slightly alarmed, slightly impressed listeners.

‘Just like old times, huh?” Theo laughed, turning to Philip.

The two of them had spent most of their childhoods at parties like this, chasing each other through a forest of legs, ducking under tables and stealing desserts from plates that had been left unattended for more than two minutes.

“Yeah,” Philip’s shoulders shook with laughter, “Hey, want to try that thing again where we steal some glasses of champagne and try and down them before our dad’s catch us?”

Theo snorted into her glass of lemonade at the memory. They’d only managed about half a glass between them but ten-year-old Philip had still fallen over in front of everyone, dragging a tablecloth down with him, sending glasses and knives and forks flying. Alexander had not been impressed.

It felt like such a long time ago. Look where they were now.

“I think we’ve grown up a little bit too much for playing Secret Agents under the tables,” Theo slid a little closer to Philip, so they were touching.

“Speak for yourself,” he said incredulously, “But yeah I think you might be right…she what are we going to do for fun? Talk? Like grown ups?”

Philip pulled an exaggerated face of disgust at the very idea.

That was when Theo got an idea. An idea so ridiculous, so insane that she couldn’t quite believe she’d actually thought of it. But there it was. And they were actually going to do it.

“I think I know how we can kill some time,” Theo murmured quietly, her voice barely audible over the music.

“Huh?” Philip asked, frowning at the sudden change in his girlfriend’s expression, “What?”

She pulled him closer, leaning in so she could whisper in his ear. Philip’s eyes went very, very wide and his face flushed bright red.

“Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes?” Theo asked, the beginnings of a heated smile on her face.

“Um. Yep. Yep. Sure,” he squeaked, nodding furiously, walking off to the left with very forced nonchalance, “Sounds good.”

“Oh! Hey there, Philip,” Alex said in surprise as his son more or less walked directly into him. The boy flinched like he’d been caught in the middle of an illicit arms deal or something.

“Um,” he began, deciding not to comment on it, “Look, I’m sorry this has gone on so long, we can go soon if you want?”

“No!” Philip yelped suddenly, a lot louder and at a much higher octave than was strictly necessary. Alex raised his eyebrows. Something was definitely up.

“I- uh, I mean I just need to…I kind of need to, um, I-I gotta go do this real important…I’ll be right back but maybe not also…” he continued, practically running away towards the door, seemingly unable to make eye contact with his dad.

“Okay…see you in a bit,” Alex narrowed his eyes at his son’s retreating back. He’d been worried that his son wouldn’t really enjoy these parties now he was twenty, at least not as much as he had when he was eight. But he’d just wanted to spend some time with his son, really, and he thought it would be okay as long as Theo was here too…

That was when Alex noticed Theo herself, looking equally furtive if a little more composed, disappearing through the exact same door Philip had just made his escape through. The door that led to the bathrooms. Which he knew fine well locked.

Alex’s jaw practically hit the floor. Surely they wouldn’t?

He didn’t quite know what to do. He had no idea what to do with this knowledge.

I mean, he and Eliza had done something several times… but he’d thought those two were more sensible.

He sighed deeply. “Well go Phillip I guess?” he said out lout to himself with a vague, confused shrug.

Okay, he knew what he needed to do. The most important thing in the world now was that Aaron Burr got nowhere near the bathroom. Ever. In a million years.

Theo barely had time to lock the door before Philip took her by the shoulders, span her around and kissed her so furiously that the minute his lips touched her’s she forgot about absolutely anything else but him. Nothing else mattered but him. She kissed him back, cradling his strong jaw with her hands, suddenly desperate for the touch of his skin. As he slid his hands under her, lifting her up onto the bank of sinks so there wouldn’t be an inch of space between them, so she could wrap her legs around his waist, she reached up to undo his hair. She loved it when his dark curls were tumbling down to his shoulders, so she could run her fingers through it, pull on it, yank it. He hissed in pleasure as she did, an indistinct plea for more. She obliged willingly while he hitched the skirts of her dress up to her waist, gasping in delight as he slowly slid her underwear down her legs.

The marble was cold on her bare skin but she didn’t care, all she could feel, all she wanted to feel was the heat of his skin as his fingers as he caressed her thigh and his mouth planted kisses along her collarbone and the hollow of her throat, biting just a little. Her sweet gasps and moans drove him on, they were like the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.

“Ready?” he panted, his dark eyes shining with excitement, forcing himself against all his instincts to pull away from her, his Theo.

“Yes,” she moaned in reply, “Please, Philip.”

He grinned, fumbling with shaking hands at the clasp of his belt.

It was such a sweet relief as he finally freed himself and entered her, drawing simultaneous gasps of delight from both of them. Philip sank his teeth into her shoulder; there’d be a significant mark there when he finally pulled away. He began to thrust, deeply, wholly, his knees leaving red marks on her skin, marks more precious to her than anything. She spread her legs, pulling him towards her, burying her face in his hair to muffle the noises she just could help making. They’d gotten to know each other so well, they’d moved from awkward, hesitant fumbling to having mapped out each and every inch of each other’s bodies, knowing how to pitch every gasp and moan and dig of the fingernails. It was perfect, so right; it felt like they were cheating, like they’d stolen more happiness than they had any right to have.

Philip crashed into orgasm first and the way his moaned Theo’s name, her full name, rolling his voice over every syllable, pushed her over the edge a heartbeat after him.

“I cannot believe we did that,” Theo panted, still with a mouthful of his hair, “I cannot believe we did that.”

Philip only laughed, running his thumbs over her soft skin gently, just holding her as close as he could.

Once they’d cleaned themselves up as much as possible, trying with splashes of cold water and tissue to make it look like they hadn’t just been fucking in the bathroom at a very fancy party.

Just as they were about to leave, Philip took hold of her hand, reaching over and tucking an escaped hair behind her ear, his expression no longer mischievous but soft and tender.

“I love you,” he murmured, gently.

“I love you too,” she smiled radiantly back at him.

“So…” he wound his arms around her waist and grinned excitedly, “Want to go play Secret Agents?”

“I really love you.”


	17. 26. Tending an Injury

“Ouch!” Alex yelped as Eliza poured water over the not inconsiderable scrape across his lower arm, “God, that stings!”

“Sorry,” Eliza sighed, suppressing an eye roll at what must have been the fiftieth complaint her husband had made since she’d practically carried him home from the park into the bathroom, “I need to clean it though, there might be grit in it. The force you hit that tree with, there’s probably some leaves in there too, for all I know.”

Alex made a low whining noise, pouting as he studied his injuries, “I was doing fine until those joggers got in the way. I had to take evasive action, I didn’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know if you can take evasive action on roller-skates?” Eliza wondered quietly but then she saw Alex’s incredulous expression and quickly changed tack, “But it was very nice of you to take the fall rather than run over those kids. Very brave.”

“And what the hell was I supposed to do with that hill? I couldn’t stop, those things have no breaks!” Alex insisted, his voice an octave or two higher than usual, gesticulating wildly with his one uninjured arm, the one his wife wasn’t carefully dabbing with a towel, “We let our kids play on those things, Eliza! They’re deathtraps.”

Eliza bit her lip, deciding that it wasn’t a good idea to point out that none of their kids had been showing off on the roller-skates quite as much as Alex had and that all of them had recognised that the hill in question was much to steep to safely go down without needing to actually doing it. Their father hadn’t. Instead she just mumbled something that sounded vaguely like agreement and reached for the bandages.

Eliza was used to patching people up; when they were growing up Angelica had been a little too fearless for her own good and Peggy had always taken things a little too far. From the age of six, Eliza had been adept with bandages and antiseptic wipes. She hadn’t realized how useful those skills were going to be in her marriage, how many times her and Alex would find themselves in this exact position, sat cross-legged on their bathroom floor with the first aid kit she’d had since she was a kid.

“Okay, hold your arm out for me a little bit,” Eliza asked, trying to get him to straighten it.

Alex whined in pain, “Whoa, whoa wait! That hurts! Eliza!”

“Okay, I’m sorry!” she placated him, putting one of her hands on his knee, “But how else am I supposed to get the bandage around it?”

“I don’t know but that’s exactly where the tree branch hit, you can’t just-“

Eliza cut him off as she leaned over and kissed him fully on the lips, silencing him with a muffled exclamation. As they sank into it, their mouths gently opening under each other, Eliza surreptitiously straightened his arm out to where she needed it to be. Surprisingly, he didn’t complain this time.

“How’s that?” Eliza grinned mischievously after she pulled away, their faces no more than an inch from each other.

“I feel a bit better,” Alex admitted, coyly, a blush beginning in his cheeks.

“Good to know,” she smirked.

Before long, Alex’s forearm and palm were bandaged and, after a few jokes (and a few more kisses) from Eliza, he was smiling again.

“I’m not going to be able to write for days,” he frowned in frustration, admiring her handiwork.

“Oh what a shame,” Eliza said sarcastically, reaching over and running a finger down his chest, “Guess we’ll just have to do something else with all your free time.”

Alex blushed again but he was grinning, “Guess so.”

Though his face had fallen again by the time she’d pulled him up off the bathroom floor and Eliza didn’t think it was because his hand was still stinging.

“Do you think I embarrassed the kids?” he asked quickly, like he wanted to get the words out before he though better of it, “A lot of people were laughing.”

Eliza’s expression softened and she squeezed his hand reassuringly, leading to a wince and hiss from Alex and a hurried, frantic apology from Eliza.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, honey,” she assured him, as they walked towards the living room. As usual, they could hear their three kids before they were even halfway there, “I think they thought it was funny.

Alex didn’t look like he believed her. Eliza tried her hardest to reassure him about stuff like this but she knew how much he still worried. It was a little dumb but she knew where it came from and she would always forgive it.

“Seriously, Alex, I’m sure they don’t-“

Eliza was interrupted by a three-part harmony of excited yells as they reached the living room and their kids barreled towards them.

“Dad, dad, dad!” Philip reached them first, bouncing up and down like he just couldn’t help himself, “Dad are you okay? There was so much blood! I thought your arm was broken. It was so cool!”

“Daddy, we made you a get well card, here!” Angie grinned hugely, thrusting a folded piece of card at him that was groaning with glitter and googly eyes and was still dripping glue onto the carpet. Eliza raised her eyebrows at the flood of glitter that had engulfed the living room and the bright red paint that now covered her youngest son’s palms and was getting on Alex’s jeans as he hugged his legs.

But she had to smile lovingly at the sight of Alex’s face as he looked at the card, complete with a surprisingly accurate cartoon of his daring crash and loud red letters proudly proclaiming ‘We love you Dad”.

“Um…thank you guys, this is…this is really great,” Alex managed, he was getting a little choked up, he was suddenly blinking very quickly. He reached out and did his damndest to hug all three of his kids at the same time, who accepted his searching arm eagerly.

Eliza laughed and joined in the hug, winding her arms around Alex’s waist. She felt Alex’s lips press against the top of her head and she smiled.

Alex didn’t even feel the pain in his hand anymore.


	18. A Kiss of Relief

After a few completely pointless hours of trying to do work and failing, Alex dropped his pen with a sharp curse under his breath. There was just no point. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to concentrate today.

“Hamilton?” Burr asked curiously, frowning from across his desk.

“Nothing,” Alex replied shortly, dropping his head into his hands and checking his phone for what must be the twentieth time that minute, muttering in frustration when there was still no text from Eliza.

Burr thought about saying something, he actually opened his mouth, ready to ask what was wrong. But he didn’t. He just turned back to his papers.

Alex knew he was overreacting. He knew he was only making things a hundred times worse for him and for Eliza by turning it over and over again in his mind, like restlessly scratching at a scar until it bled again. But the more he told himself to drop it, the more anxiety clawed at his stomach, and the more agitated pressure built up in his temples. Letting stuff go wasn’t something he’d ever been good at.

-

He’d barely noticed at first, he’d been fast asleep and only noticed Eliza was no longer in the bed next to him when he rolled over with a sigh and, instead of his arms closing around the warmth and safety of his dozing wife, they just flopped onto the empty bed.

Alex woke with a start, like he’d tripped without actually moving, his still sleeping brain panicking as he struggled upright. Where was Eliza? Where was his wife?

That was when Eliza appeared in the doorway of the small bathroom that lead off from their bedroom, looking haggard, pale and shaking and having to grip the door frame to stand upright.

“Alex…” she murmured, vaguely.

He was on his feet in a heartbeat, running to her.

“Eliza, honey, what’s wrong?” he asked, all traces tiredness gone, feeling himself go cold, “Are you okay?”

Eliza held onto him, resting her head against his chest, like she’d just sink to the floor if she didn’t, her voice weak and trembling “Y-you know how I said… that I wasn’t going to get the…the flu? I think I was wrong.”

“Oh God, Eliza,” Alex groaned, holding her close, helping her over to the bed, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

Once she was lying down, Alex knelt beside her head, stroking her hair back from her sweaty forehead with an anxious expression.

“Have you been sick?” he asked, fretfully, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Three times,” Eliza moaned faintly into the pillow, “I…didn’t have time.”

“Can I get you anything? Water? Medicine? I don’t even know what kind we’ve got; I need to go to the store… Are you sure it’s the flu? Do you feel warm?” he could hear his voice getting faster and louder, like it always did when he was stressed, but he couldn’t stop. He could hear alarm bells starting up in the back of his mind.

Eliza heard them too and she struggled up onto her elbows, despite Alex’s noises of protest.

“Sweetheart,” she reached out and rested her hand gently against his jaw, “It’s okay. It’s just the flu. I’m going to be fine.”

Alex bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Eliza knew fine well why he overreacted every time she got ill; he’d confessed it to her quietly, kind of shamefully, one time in college after he’d been ready to drag her to the hospital when all she had was a migraine. He knew it was stupid but all he’d been able to think about was his mother, steadying herself against the kitchen counter and insisting that she was fine, that it was only a fever, that it was nothing to be worried about.

And two days later she’d died.

Alex didn’t like it when people he cared about got sick.

But Eliza hadn’t laughed, hadn’t flinched away, hadn’t told him he was crazy. All she’d done was wrap him in her arms, her eyes full of sympathy and love exactly like they were now.

“I’m going to be fine,” she insisted again, her voice full of as much strength and assurance as could be mustered when she was shaking like a leaf and just thrown up everything she’d eaten in the last day.

Alex put his hand over her’s and held on tightly, trying to smile back at her, trying his hardest to believe her.

Eliza was whimpering softly in her sleep when Alex reluctantly left for work a few hours later, leaving two glasses of water and some Tylenol and her phone within her reach. He texted her a lot that day, feeling blind panic rise in his chest when she didn’t reply to the first few for more than twenty minutes, even though he knew she must be asleep. Burr had looked at him with a mix of horror and disbelief when Alex had started to gather his things to leave at four o’ clock rather than eight.

He managed to calm down a little when he came through the door to see Eliza up and moving around the apartment, if a little gingerly.

“You’re sure it’s just the flu?” Alex asked as they sat at the dinner table, watching, as Eliza turned green at the sight of the pasta he’d made her.

“It’s like you said, baby, I work at a school, I’m surrounded by kids all day. I was bound to get it at some point,” Eliza shrugged, sipping at the latest in the line of many glasses of water Alex had pushed towards her, “It’ll be fine in a few days.”

He nodded but he didn’t look convinced. It would be fine in a few days, he repeated to himself, slowly. It would.

Three days later and Alex was sat on the bathroom floor at five in the morning, holding back Eliza’s hair with one hand and gripping her heaving shoulders with the other, wincing as she groaned and convulsed.

After it was over, he helped her to the sink and passed her a toothbrush mutely, pacing restlessly around the small bathroom. Eliza was talking to him, he was vaguely aware of it, but he wasn’t hearing her voice. He was hearing other voices, in another language, from a long, long time ago.

“Alex,” Eliza said again, louder this time.

“Hmm?” he stopped, blinking, his bleary, tired eyes focusing on her.

“I’m honestly fine, “ her voice was low, weak and sad, “Please…please don’t worry.”

Alex looked back at her helplessly. She looked so fragile, hugging herself, shivering in just one of his shirts, deep, tired shadows under her eyes. She was telling him not to worry but all he could think when he looked at her was how he couldn’t bear to lose her. It would kill him. He knew that for a certainty.

After a long moment, Eliza sighed and said, “I’m going to the doctors tomorrow.”

Alex nodded.

-

He hadn’t been allowed to go with her.

“You go to work, keep yourself busy,” Eliza had insisted that morning, resting her palms comfortingly on his chest, minutes before Angelica came to pick her up and drive her to the doctors, “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

He’d whined but he saw the sense in his wife’s words and, anyhow, her expression told him clearly that she’s already made up her mind. So he’d left for another completely unproductive day at work spent worrying about Eliza rather than his clients, leaving his lips on hers for much longer than was really necessary, threading his fingers through her’s.

“You will call me, right? Straight away?” he’d insisted, leaning against the door.

“I promise,” Eliza nodded.

But she hadn’t. It was nearly midday and there was nothing from her, not even a text.

Alex bounced his leg furiously, drawing Burr’s eyes again who merely sighed and turned back to his work. He ran his thumb across his phone screen, anxiously reading the umpteen texts he’d already sent his wife, getting more clipped and frantic as time went on. Nothing. Not a word from Eliza. She always teased him about his impatience for replies but she’d never, ever go silent on him. Not when she knew his anxiety was already in overdrive.

How long did it fucking take to tell someone they had the flu?

He was going to call her. He couldn’t stand it.

The soft knock at the door made both men jump. Alex’s eyes flew up and he almost yelped aloud at the sight of Eliza, hovering in the doorway. She looked…startled. Maybe even frightened.

There was a pause. Burr looked at Alex curiously before deciding that it was up to him to break it.

“Eliza,” he said warmly, getting to his feet, reaching out to take her hand, “It’s been ages.”

“Hey Aaron,” Eliza smiled back, squeezing his hand but still looking like she wasn’t seeing what was actually in front of her, “Can I, um, borrow my husband for a little bit?”

Burr turned to Alex, who still hadn’t moved; who was sat there holding himself like something unseen was about to attack him at any moment. He shook himself, suddenly jumping to his feet, the harsh sound of his chair scraping against the floor cutting through the room.

“Back in a bit,” he mumbled to his very confused partner as he pulled Eliza out into the hall.

As soon as the door shut, Alex opened his mouth, the words spilling out of him like it was beyond his control.

“Eliza, please, just tell me what it is. I promise I won’t freak out, I can handle it just…just tell me,” he pleaded with her, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor.

“Alex…” Eliza murmured, like she couldn’t quite believe her own words “It’s not what you think. I’m just not sure how to explain…”

“Are you…” the words caught in his throat, some part of him was trying to hold on to them, like if he didn’t say it aloud it couldn’t be true, “Are you sick? Is it…serious?”

Eliza saw her husband’s anxiety spiking, she wanted to comfort him but looked as if she didn’t honestly know how to answer that question, “I’m not sick, not exactly. But…”

Alex could physically feel his heart slamming into his ribs, “Oh God, Eliza, whatever it is I promise I’m here for you, we can fix it together, it’s going to be okay, I just… I just…”

She saw him starting to spiral; she reached out and grabbed his arms, silencing his terrified rambling with two words that stopped him dead.

“ _I’m pregnant!_ ” she cried.

Alex blinked, everything had gone very quiet but somehow he wasn’t sure that he’d heard her right. “You…what?”

Eliza took a shaky breath, looking like she was going to cry, “I’m pregnant, Alex. You’re going to be a dad.”

Alex’s hands seemed to have taken on a mind of their own. They gestured questioningly towards Eliza, towards her stomach, fluttered to his head, ran through his hair. His mouth opened and closed all the while but he all he had were high pitched, confused squeaks, his expression completely stunned. Joy began to dawn on Eliza’s face.

“You…are you serious, Eliza?” Alex finally managed to ask, “That’s why you were…you’re, I mean, we’re going to…have a baby?”

Eliza nodded, past words, studying his face a little worriedly. Had she broken him?

Alex shook his head like he was trying to clear it. Then he began to smile and his eyes began to swim, tears starting to run down his face.

“Oh my God, Eliza,” he gasped, pulling her against him, the two of them collapsing against each other, laughing and crying and wondering how they’d ever gotten so lucky, how their lives had changed so dramatically in the space of a few minutes.

“So you’re not dying then?” Alex half laughed, half sobbed.

Eliza giggled, burying her face against his shoulder, “Guess not.”

He swallowed back his tears, whispering reverently, “I love you, Eliza. So much.”

“I love you too,” she sighed happily.

They kissed, tasting salt on each other’s lips, relief and shock and the kind of joy neither of them had ever thought they’d have. Alex’s hands found their way to Eliza’s stomach, resting against her skin, reaching out to whoever was growing there. Her hands joined his.

It was going to be okay, Alex thought, in awe. It really, really was.


	19. Sex Games

“I literally cannot believe you just said that to me,” Alex’s voice was full of disbelief and horror as he walked into their bedroom, closely followed by Eliza.

“Look I’m sorry!” she half laughed, “I’m sorry, all I meant was that maybe he’s got some points, I don’t _agree_ with him per se but-“

“I cannot believe this,” Alex’s eyes were wide, he sat heavily on the bed, his head in his hands, “My own wife, my beloved. Is nothing sacred?”

“Alex will you just listen?” Eliza knelt in front of him, trying to duck under to catch his eyes, “All I meant was that Jefferson has some coherent arguments. Your plan does need some work if it’s going to pass.”

Alex’s head snapped up, his expression horrorstruck like Eliza had just sucker punched him. She very quickly realized that she’d dug herself an even deeper hole.

“Some work?” he repeated hoarsely, “Are you…are you agreeing with Jefferson over _me_?”

“No!” Eliza exclaimed, “No, no, no of course not! All I’m saying is you need to understand where he’s coming from, why so many people agree with him. Its just a different opinion Alex!”

He didn’t look convinced. He was staring at her like he was looking at a stranger. Eliza sighed internally, she should have known better than to try and start this conversation now. Alex was exhausted, he was stressed, they’d been so close to tearing each other’s clothes off and falling into bed, why had she been so stupid?

“Come on, honey,” she sighed, reaching out and sliding her arms around his hips, her mouth going to his neck, “Can we just forget I said anything and go back to making out? Please?”

Alex stayed stiff, “No, not really! How am I supposed to sleep with you when you don’t think my financial plan is any good? When you think that _Thomas fucking Jefferson_ has some, and I quote, ‘good points’? How am I supposed to get past that Eliza?”

“Oh God,” Eliza groaned, resting her head on Alex’s collarbone. I had to open my stupid mouth, she thought in defeat.

“Look Alex, come on, I haven’t seen you all day! What can I say to make you drop this?”

Alex narrowed his eyes, “Take back what you said.”

Eliza pulled away, blinking at him. He pouted and folded his arms, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh my god, you’re actually serious?” she exclaimed, laughing in disbelief.

Alex nodded firmly.

“You know what Alex? No, I am not going to take it back. You need to accept that I can have a different opinion to you,” Eliza folded her arms in turn, mimicking his position.

There was a flash of uncertainty in Alex’s eyes but he gathered himself quickly, “So no sex then? Until you take back what you said.”

Eliza’s teeth closed on her bottom lip. She paused for a moment and nodded, “And if you break before I do, you have to admit that I was right and that I can have different opinions to you sometimes?”

Alex swallowed hard, “Yep. Sure. But there is no way in hell I’m breaking before you.”

Eliza gave a bark of laughter, “Yeah, okay, we’ll see about that.”

Neither of them sounded very confident.

-

As it happened, they both managed to last three days.

It was kind of a simultaneous decision from both of them. After a few tense mornings, with lazy, just-woke-up kisses that ended with the two of them quickly pulling apart, glaring at each other stubbornly, and evenings where Eliza would, as usual, put her head in his lap, Alex would begin to stroke her hair but then they’d both remember and scramble to opposite ends of the sofa, pretending they were both fine, they both reached their breaking point. Alex had had enough of Eliza deliberately leaning close to him to pass him his pen or his book or talk to him, well aware that his eyes almost immediately would drift down to her breasts. Eliza couldn’t stand Alex intentionally choosing to wear that tight black shirt he knew fine well drove her nuts, leaning against the wall while she worked at the kitchen table, grinning teasingly at her.

They were both stood side by side, brushing their teeth. Both of them were resolutely not looking at each other, their eyes restlessly flitting about, their hands in fists at their sides, stood stiffly.

I’m not going to break; Eliza shut her eyes and thought firmly.

I’m _not_ going to break; Alex bounced on the balls of his feet and told himself stubbornly.

A heartbeat after they’d spat their mouthfuls of water into the sink, they simultaneously turned to each other and frantically exclaimed in one voice, “I’m sorry!”

They both stopped and laughed.

“Okay, I admit it, I can’t do this anymore,” Eliza giggled helplessly, reaching out and pulling him towards her, her lips on his neck.

“I don’t care, I’m done,” Alex gasped, wrapping his arms around her, “I’ll go tell Jefferson to his face that he’s right, I don’t even care, I just need you, Eliza.”

“Shut up and kiss me then,” she grinned, threading her fingers through his hair, taking fistfuls of it, pulling at the roots ever so slightly.

And he did. He did like he was desperate for her, like if he didn’t have her lips on his right now he’d die.

After a while they found themselves in the living room; Alex pushed Eliza onto the sofa, grinning as he slid her pants down her legs while she sank her teeth into his shoulder and her fingernails into his hips. They just didn’t care anymore, the world could go fuck itself, they had each other and that was all they were ever going to need.  

“I love you so much,” Alex moaned in release, running his hands down her waist and between her legs, delighting in the slopes of her body, the curves he knew so well but still found so much joy in.

“I love you too,” she murmured, gasping and arching her back as he slid two fingers into her,  “Oh god, yes, _Alexander._ ”

He laughed low in his throat, practically a growl, as he drew strangled gasps and rich moans from her with expert flexes of his hand and strokes of his fingers, feeling her tense and roll underneath him. She clung to him the waves crashed over her, so close to snapping, tense and ready, begging for it.

“Alex,” she moaned, her eyes closed in rapture, “Yes, Alex, I’m so close, _please_ …”

He wanted to do nothing listen to her plead with him, say his name in that restless, hungry voice for the rest of his life but he wanted, needed to hear her come for him. And his wrist was starting to ache. He grinned and prepared to finish her, paused and tensed…

The front door of the house flew open with a crash; there came a clatter of footsteps and Peggy’s voice called from the hallway, “ELIZA! I left my scarf here this morning, have you seen it?”

There was a moment where time seemed to slow, when Eliza had time to think, of course. Of course it’s Peggy.

The youngest Schuyler moved quickly, she appeared in the doorway in time to see Eliza practically kick Alex onto the floor and yank her pajama bottoms back up. All three of them froze, Alex pulling his knees to his chest quickly.

There was a pause and then Peggy sighed heavily.

“Come on guys, you’re someone’s parents,” she groaned, shaking her head in despair.

“Well what the hell did I tell you about just walking in unannounced!” Eliza hissed, her face flaming red instantly.

“Okay, okay, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything,” Peggy sighed, theatrically covering her eyes and pretending to feel her way through the room to where her scarf hung on the chair, stepping over Alex.

“Hey, Alex,” she said breezily as she passed.

“Hey Peg,” he muttered.

As she was about to leave, Peggy turned, her eyes bright and interested, “Oh by the way, which one of you cracked first? My money was on you, Alex.”

She was grinning devilishly as she dashed out of the house, closing the door to Alex’s exasperated cry of “You _told them?_ ”


	20. Caught in the Act

“You’re nervous,” Alex observed matter of factly as he watched his wife dress.

‘I am not,” Eliza insisted, smoothing down her blazer and patting her hair, her hands fluttering like nervous birds.

“Yes you are,” her husband sighed gently, getting to his feet and walking up behind her, “You’ve changed outfits five times, you’re dancing about like you need to pee and you looked like you were going to cry when you broke a spoon at breakfast. You’re nervous.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a swift kiss the to the back of her neck.

Eliza huffed, putting her hands over his, “Okay…maybe. Maybe I am _slightly_ anxious about presenting in front of some of the most important people in the country, with the futures of hundreds of underprivileged children in the city depending on me, trying to convince them to donate money and trying not to make a complete idiot of myself and-“

Her pitch and volume was climbing, she was beginning to ramble.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Alex murmured soothingly, turning her around and pulling her into a hug, resting her head against his shoulder.

Eliza relaxed with a low sigh. Alex smiled and kissed the top of her head.

This had been a long time coming, ever since a few weeks ago when Alex had first come home with the news that he’d organized for Eliza to come and speak on behalf of the orphanage she worked for, to lobby for more funding for it and for the hundreds more across the city. His wife was amazing at her job; he knew that for a certainty, it was just that she needed some convincing.

“Look, honey, you are going to crush this today. I know you are. It’s just the clowns I work with, you’re smarter than the lot of them put together,” he told her earnestly, “And I’ll be sat there the whole time.”

Eliza blushed a little but she smiled, “I guess…”

“Come on let’s get going, I’ll buy you a hot chocolate from the place you like on the way,” Alex promised, with a wink before turning to get his jacket, “Though I will point out that you wouldn’t feel so nervous if you’d me make a sign that said ‘Go Eliza’ or ‘Everyone look how hot and smart my wife is’ or something like that.”

Eliza snorted with laughter, shaking her head in disbelief, “Alex it’s a presentation at the White House, its not a hockey game! I don’t think they let you make signs.”

“George would have let me,” he insisted, poking his head indignantly round the door, “And there was going to be glitter on it and everything, it would have been a masterpiece.”

“Oh I don’t doubt that,” Eliza sighed quietly as she braced herself and followed him out.

“…And that is why I firmly believe that our government would be far better placed spending its money on improving the lives of countless children across our city. As far as I am concerned, it is the only choice that makes any sense.” Eliza finished and the room immediately erupted in applause. She stood there with an easy, confident smile, all of her previous nervousness gone, looking and sounding like she owned the place.

Alex knew fine well he was grinning like an absolute idiot but he just didn’t care. It was everything he had not to get to his feet and jump up and down and punch the air, whooping in triumph. She was just so _good_. He’d known Eliza was going to be amazing, that she’d do a wonderful job but he hadn’t been expecting it to get him so…excited. Like, really excited.

It was just when Jefferson had smugly stuck his hand up and asked some snide question about how financially viable such institutions actually were and Eliza had simply narrowed her eyes and shut him down completely with a string of facts and figures like it was nothing, the look on his face! Alex had actually had to lean forward in his seat, cross his legs a little. Just as a precautionary measure.

The moment Eliza saw him, moving through the crowd of people milling around her to shake her hand and congratulate her, she dropped her bag and ran into his arms.

“You were fantastic!” he whispered in her ear, squeezing her tightly.

“Thanks!” Eliza grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet in the adorable way she always did when she was excited, “I really think I nailed it!”

Seeing her pride in herself, the fact that she actually believed she’d done a good job made Alex happier than anything else could have. He found himself gnawing on his bottom lip as he took in her excitedly flushed face, her bright eyes, and the glow of her skin. He found himself looking around the room, checking that people were dispersing. Then he found himself getting what could either be a very good idea or a very bad idea…

“Um, okay, so…” he began, lowering his voice and leaning in so only she could hear, “I don’t need to get back to work for a while and there is a storage cupboard out there in the corridor with a door that locks. How about you and I go…I don’t know…celebrate?”

Eliza blinked and Alex braced himself for a withering look. But instead a mischievous smile dawned on his wife’s face and she ran her tongue over her teeth, her eyes flickering up and down him.

“Yeah? Sounds good,” she murmured, waggling her eyebrows.

Alex nearly choked on his laughter and he grinned excitedly.

Eliza tasted like hot chocolate and sugar as Alex kissed her hungrily, frenziedly, pressing her against the wall of the closet, frantically trying to work out the clasp of her bra while being distracted by her tongue, her hands, her breath hot against his skin.

“You’re amazing,” he moaned, trying to keep his voice quiet but he was struggling while her hands were doing interesting and very distracting things to his dick. There were more words, more breathless prayers of worship to her eyes, her hair, her smile but they all turned into a mindless growl as he slid into her and her nails dug into him.

Eliza just gave a throaty laugh, her lips moving down to the base of his throat and his collarbone she’s exposed once she’d finally ripped open his shirt, her teeth sinking in just a little, enough to make him yelp. She wanted him so badly; she needed him so badly it was a physical pain in her chest, all the adrenaline that had build up over the day manifesting as a desperate want for her Alexander, so much so that she was going to fuck him right here in this storage closet, no matter how dumb of an idea that was, no matter how great the risk was that they might get-

Caught.

The door right next to them opened and slammed shut again within a second but it was enough.

One instant Alex had been pressed against her, the next he was against the opposite wall, as far away from her as it was possible to get in the small space. His expression mirrored her’s exactly, complete and utter horror.

It was a long while before Eliza found it in her to speak, her voice hoarse and distant.

“That was-“

“Jefferson.”

“And behind him was-“

“Madison.”

“Do you think they saw that we were-“

“Yes.”

Eliza took a long, shaking breath that went on until there wasn’t a scrap of air left in her lungs. It was easier thank thinking of something to say.

Almost simultaneously, they both slid down to the floor, their wide, dismayed eyes never leaving each other.  

“Well at least we died doing what we loved,” Alex said eventually, his voice small.

“Oh my god Alex,” Eliza groaned, “I am going to hit you.”

After a while, he shrugged, “I deserve it.”

Of all the things Eliza had been worrying about this morning, of all the things she’d thought might have gone wrong, she’d never considered this.

**Author's Note:**

> These are all from my tumblr, I'm quantum-oddity! Come chat!


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